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LI>V\11ED' 


BRpAD\\^Y- KeV/oi\k; 


. Y., as Second Class Matlcr. 


BY 

WILLIAM WESTALL 


AU'^HOR OF “ THE PHANTOM CITY,” “ RED RIVINGTON,” “ HEJ 
rONS,” “TWO PINCHES OF SNUFF,” ETC. 


QUEER RACE 







“ WHAT CAN’T BE CURED 

must be endured.” Fight dirt with 

SAPOLIO 


and you will win. 

Is there any melody in work ? Work is considered irk- 
some — troublesome — unpleasant. If it does not accord 
with our desires, it makes discord in our hearts. But to 
people who are trained to do it rightly, work is one of the 
pest amusements, and knows no discord. There is melody 
in work. If the one who works uses the best methods and 
combines wisdom with the work, then it goes forward joy- 
fully. Sapolio is the best method of doing all house 
cleaning. No, 26. 


A Queer Race: 


THE STORY OF A STRANGE PEOPLE. 






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ge^iratiott. 


TO 

MARMADUKE TOWNSEND 

THIS STORY IS INSCRIRKD BY 

HIS OBLIGED FRIEND, 


THE AUTHOR. 




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CONTENTS. 


OHAFTEE. PAGE. 

1. — Foul Play 1 

II. — Mr. Brand yman 11 

III. — Nil Dbsperandum 18 

IV . — Crazy Tom’s Yarn 24 

V. — The Document 36 

VI. — Op the same Opinion Still 49 

VII. — The Fever Ship 64 

VIII.— The First Victim 64 

IX. — Yellow Jack I . 77 

X. — Mutiny 91 

XI. — Becalmed 99 

XII. — Befogged 108 

XIII. — Painted or Piebald? . . . . . . 122 

XIV. — “English, by Jingo I” 130 

XV. — Fair Island . . 140 

XVI.—Queen Mab 148 

XVII.— A Eevelation 160 

XVIII.— Denzil Fane 166 

XIX.— Why not Queen? 




179 


Vlll 


CONTENT?. 


XX. — The Shark-Fighters 


. 


PAGE. 

. 188 

XXI. — A Dancing Lesson . 


• 


. 201 

XXII. — A Flash of Lightning . 


• 


. 212 

XXTII. — A Terrihle Night. 



. 

. 224 

XXIV.- Saved .... 




. 236 

XXV.— Saved Again . 




. 246 

XX VI. — Friends in Need 




. 262 

XXVII. Treason .... 





XXVIII. — Bolsover himself Again 




. 277 

XXIX.— Wynter’s Hill . ' , 


• . • 


. 282 

XXX. — After the Fight . 




. 293 


A Queer Eace: 

THE STORY OP A STRANGE PEOPLE. 

CHAPTER I. 

FOUL PLAY. 

The heat and burden of the day were over, and I 
had withdrawn to my own room to write my private 
letters and think over a few matters which required 
more consideration than I had yet been able to give 
them. My nerves were beginning to recover from the 
shock they had sustained by the loss of the Niobe, and 
the cyclone at Colon ; nevertheless, the outlook was still 
dark, the claims arising out of these two disasters being 
exceedingly heavy, and to meet them would tax our 
resources to the utmost. Another big loss and we 
should be ‘^^in Queer Street.^^ The company would 
have to suspend payment and go into liquidation. 

The worst of it was that, as touching the Niohey I 
had rendered myself — in a moral sense — almost person- 
ally responsible. A brand-new ship, A 1 at Lloyd^s, 
owned by a firm of repute, commanded by a captain of 
character, and bound only to Havana — a mere summer 
B 


A QUEER RACE. 


a 

trip — the risk seemed as light as well could he. I felt 
myself quite justified in granting a voyage policy of ten 
thousand pounds on the body of the ship, and covering 
her cargo for the same amount (without particular 
average) . In fact, 1 thought that I had done an excellent 
stroke of business, and when one of the directors, an 
over-cautious old curmudgeon, with whom I had never 
been able to get on, suggested the expediency of re- 
insuring to the extent of a third or a half, I was very 
much amused, and did not hesitate to tell him so. 

Now the laugh was on the (Tther side — the scolding, 
rather, for at the last Board meeting I had got an 
awful wigging. All the directors — wondrously wise 
after the event, as directors are wont to be — could see 
how imprudently I had acted, and the very men who 
had chaffed old Slocum for his timidity were now 
the loudest in blaming my rashness. 

Even if the company weathered the storm, it was 
about even betting that I should lose my berth. 

As for the Colon affair, I was in no way blameworthy. 
Nobody can foresee a cycloine, and both actually and 
relatively we had been less severely hit than any of 
our competitors — quite hard enough, however, for our 
limited capital. 

But the Niobe ! So far as I could learn, she had not 
encountered so much as a gale of wind all the way out ; 
yet sprang a leak, and went down in a calm sea off the 
coast of Cuba; all hands saved, all the cargo lost, except 
the master's chronometer and sextant ! 


FOUL PLAY. 


3 


Queer — very queer ! If the owners had been less 
honourable, and the captain less respectable, I should 
almost have suspected foul play. . . . Yet even 

honourable people do strange things ; while as for the 
captain, did not some great authority say that every 
man has his price ? I had reason to believe, too, that 
both ship and cargo were heavily over-insured, and it 
was being whispered on ’Change that Barnes and 
Brandyman would make a deuced good thing by the 
loss of the Niobe. But what could I do? The Niobe 
was not the first ship which had foundered in fair 
weather ; and to dispute the claim on grounds that might 
expose me to an action for slander, and lay the company 
under suspicion of seeking a pretext to evade payment, 
would be both foolish and fatal. Everything seemed to 
be in order; Barnes and Brandyman were an honourable 
firm, and that day week we must either pay or burst.^^ 

Twenty thousand pounds ! 

A pleasant look-out I and a nice row there would be 
when I asked the Board to pass the cheque ! As likely 
as not, old Slocum would insist on suspending payment 
at once ; for we had contingent liabilities in the shape of 
unclosed risks which might exceed the whole of our un- 
called capital. 

I had arrived at this point of my musings, when 
there came a knock at the door, followed by Slocum 
junior, a cheeky young rascal who, on the strength of 
being a volunteer and the son of a director, took liberties 
and gave himself airs, 

B 2 


4 


A QUEER- RACE. 


Well ? I said, tartly ; for he had bounced in with-, 
out waiting for an invitation. 

There’s a man in the office wants to see you, and 
be refuses either to give his name or state his business ; 
only he says it is very pressing and particular — the 
business, I mean, not the name.^^ 

What sort of man is he 

** Seafaring ; an Ancient Mariner sort of chap.^* 

A skipper ? 

Looks like an A.B., boats^^ain, coxswain, or cook, 
or something of that sort."’"’ 

Oh, I cannot be bothered with able-bodied seamen 
at this time of da-y. It is nearly five o^clock, and I 
have all my letters to write. He must state his business 
— or, stay, he can see me to-morrow morning at ten 
o'clock.^"’ 

All right, Pll tell him. But he^s a stupid-looking 
old beggar ; I donT think he will go away.’^ 

In two minutes Slocum junior was back again ; 
came in this time without even so much as knocking. 

^^The Ancient Mariner resolutely and not very 
respectfully refuses either to state his business or call 
to-morrow,"’^ said the young fellow, jauntily. ^^Does 
not care so d — d much whether you see him or not, but 
it will be to your own loss if you don^t.^^ 

I felt very much disposed to send the Ancieiit 
Mariner to the deuce, but curiosity getting the better of 
dignity, I told Slocum to show\im in. 

** I thought that would fetch him ! muttered the 


^OtJL PLAt. 


yoting jackanapes, as he went out to execute my com- 
mission, which he did by going to the door and shouting, 
Gome in ! 

The Ancient Mariner sort of chap ” came in 
accordingly. Though evidently of the seafaring pro^ 
fession, there was very little of the conventional sailor 
about him. He had neither hair on his face nor a quid 
in his cheek ; neither shivered his timbers nor hitched 
up his trousers. His manner was quiet and self- 
])ossessed, and his voice low (he had certainly not used 
the coarse expression attributed to him by Slocum) ; 
and albeit slightly grizzled, he did not look much above 
forty. The man had, moreover, a genial, good-humoured 
countenance, the high colour of which showed that he 
had lately voyaged in low latitudes, and his clear, wide- 
open blue eyes bespoke both honesty and courage. 

Slocum junior lingered about the door as if he wanted 
to take part in the conversation. 

You may go, Mr. Slocum,^^ I said, severely ; and 
muttering something which I did not catch, he went. 

** That is right,^'’ said the Ancient Mariner ; my 
business is very ])rivate, and — glancing round — I 
hope there^s no possibility of anybody listening?^-’ 

None. The door is thick, and fits close, and my 
desk is a long way from it. Besides, nobody could 
listen without being seen by all the clerks in the outer 
office. What can I do ^r you ? WonT you sit down ? 

Thank you kindly. I donT know as you can do 
much for me ; but maybe I can do something for you. 


A QUEER Race. 


6 

You are Mr. Sidney Erie, underwriter of the Oriental 
and Occidental Marine Insurance Company, aren^t 
you ? 

I am. And you ? ” 

'^Thomas Bolsover, able-bodied seaman, late a 
quartermaster aboard the Niohe.^^ 

You underwrote the Niohe, didn^t you, for a biggish 
figure ? 

I am sorry to say we did.’^ 

And I am very sorry. But this must not go any 
further, Mr. Erie. I am only a common seafaring man, 
late a quartermaster aboard the Niohe y and I don^t want 
to get myself into no trouble.” 

I understand, Mr. Bolsover; and you may be sure 
that I shall do nothing to compromise you. What 
passes here will go no further without your permission.” 

Well, I was going to say as I am sorry to say that 
the Niohe did not get fair play.'’^ 

You mean that she got foul play ? 

I do.” 

I feared as much. But is it merely a case of sus- 
picion, or do you know something ? ” 

I know something. Leastways, if seeing is 
knowing, I do ; but I cannot say as anybody told me 
anything.” 

Seeing is better than hearing in a matter of this 
sort. What did you see ? ” 

Well, we had a fine run across, made good weather 


Font FLAt. 


1 


all the way out, and after touching at St. Thomas’s, the 
course was shaped for Cuba. Later on it blew three- 
parts of a gale of wind, but nothing at all to hurt ; 
everything was made snug, and it was over in a few 
hours. Well, the morning after, I was going below 
after my spell at the wheel in the second night-watch, 
when who should I see coming up out of the hold but 
the captain, with an auger in one hand and a lantern in 
the other. I said nothing, of course, and though when 
he saw as IM seen him he looked a bit flustered, and slunk 
away to his cabin, I did not think much of it — ^just 
then. But when the bo’sun told me next day as we had 
sprung a leak, I began to put two and two together. 
Because the ship didn't ought to have sprung a leak ; 
she had done nothing to make her spring aleak. But it 
was not for me to say anything, and I held my tongue.” 

** But you kept your weather eye open, I suppose ? ” 
I tried. Well, she sprung a leak — leastways, they 
said she did — and the leak gained on us. The carpenter, 
he could do no good ; so the pumps was rigged, and we 
pumped and pumped for nigh on a week, but the more 
we pumped the more water she seemed to make, and at 
last she got so low down that the captain said that 
having done our duty by the ship, we must now look to 
ourselves. So the boats was got out, and the captain, 
who was the last to leave the deck, came into the dingey 
and ordered the others to shove off. They were on the 
starboard side, we on the port. He had hardly given 
the order when she gave a list to starboard that nearly 


B 


A (^UilER RACii. 


bared her keel, lay for a moment on her beam-ends, and 
then went bodily down. As she heeled over I saw a 
sight I shall never forget — four big holes in her hull, 
every one of ^em spouting water.'’^ 

Who was in the dingey besides yourself ? 

‘^^The captain, the carpenter, and another 
Did nobody else see the holes ? 

“ No. All the other boats was lying off on the star- 
board side of her.^^ 

After that you went away ? 

Yes ; we were not more than fifty miles from the 
coast of Cuba, and we made land before morning.^^ 

Who do you suppose were the captain^s con- 
federates? I mean who, besides himself, do you thinK 
was concerned in this vile plot to sink the ship ? ” 

The carpenter and the first officer.'’^ 

And the other sailor who was in the dingey with 
you — what has become of him ? 

Alec Tobin ? Where he is just now I cannot say; 
but he shipped at Cuba aboard a homeward-bound ship.'’^ 
Well, Mr. Bolsover, I am very much obliged for 
this information ; it is very important. I said I would 
keep your secret, but I think I shall have to mention the 
matter to our directors. The information would be of 
no use to me else. However, that need not trouble 
you. You shall be protected, whatever comes.'^^ 

That is all I want, sir.^"* 

And rewarded. In the meantime, take this ** — 
offering him a sovereign. 


i'OtJL PLAY. 


0 


^*Kot for me^ thank yoii^ sir. If I was to take 
money for my information it wonldn/’t look right. You 
have only my word for this ’ere, and a man shouldn’t 
take pay for telling the truth.” 

You are an honest fellow, Bolsover — as honest as 
you look. If you won’t accept money, I must try to 
show my gratitude in some other way. It was very 
good of you to come to me. How did you happen to 
know my name, might I ask ? ” 

Oh, I have seen you afore, sir. You maybe 
remember breakfasting with Captain Peyton aboard 
the Diana one morning when she lay in the Huskisson 
Dock ? ” 

I remember it very well.” 

Well, I was one of his crew, and heard him speak 
of you afterwards, and say as you knew Register 

off by heart ; and I heard Captain Deep, of the Niobe, 
tell the first officer one day as the ship was insured in the 
Oriental and Occidental, so it seemed sort of natural 
as I should come to you.” 

I am glad you did. Yes, I know Captain Peyton 
very well. A man of the right sort, he is.” 

^^And a first-rate sailor. He knows his Imsiness, 
he does. You were saying just now as you would like 
to do something for me. Well, I should like nothing 
better than to sail with him again ; and if you would 
speak to him, he’d maybe give me a berth as bo’sun or 
quartermaster. I know a bosun’s duty as well as any 
man, sir.” 


10 


A QUEEIt race. 


T^ll do that with pleasure, Bolsover, as soon as 
Captain Peyton comes home ; and that won’t be long, I 
think. The Diana is sixty days out from Monte Video, 
and is pretty sure to be here by the end of the month. 
You had better leave me your address, and then I can 
communicate with you about that or the other matter/^ 

I handed him a pen, and he put down his address in 
a sprawling but sufficiently legible hand. As he bent 
his arm, his coat-sleeve (which was none of the longest) 
ran up a little, and bared his wrist, showing a strange 
device in blue ink : a ship in full sail, above which was 
tattooed a name, Santa Anna ; ** and below, a date, 
17 U/’ 

I should have liked to ask what it aU meant, but as 
time was going on, and my letters were still to write, I 
refrained, little thinking how much the device portended 
nor how strangely the mystery which lay behind it was 
destined to affect my fortunes. 

Then we shook hands, and Bolsover went away and 
left me to my thoughts. 


CHAPTER 11. 


MR. BRANDYMAN. 

I WAS right, then; there had been foul play. Captain 
Deep had committed the crime of barratry, with the 
connivance, and doubtless at the instance, of his owners, 
Messrs. Barnes and Brandyman. There are a good 
many respectable people who would do even worse if 
they could make twenty thousand pounds thereby, this 
being the amount which Messrs. Barnes and Brandy- 
man’s treachery was likely to bring them ; for, as I have 
already observed, they had insured the Niobe and her 
cargo largely elsewhere ; and to give the firm their due, 
they did not do things by halves. They were not the 
sort of people to commit a felony and run a serious risk 
for an old song. 

But the question that most concerned me was my 
own course of action. What should I do ? It was 
obvious that I could not bring a charge of barratry 
against so intensely respectable a firm as Barnes and 
Brandyman without the most convincing proofs. But 
the only proof I could adduce was Bolsover'’s statement, 
and as he was sure to be flatly contradicted by the 
captain, the mate, and the carpenter, that would not 
avail me much, even though I should find and produce 


A QtlllEE RACti. 

Alec Tobin, the other sailor who had seen the holes in 
the Niobe^s hull. 

Moreover, no insurance company, above all a com- 
pany so weak and young as ours, would venture, save on 
the very strongest grounds, openly to dispute a claim 
and fight so strong a firm as Barnes and Brandyman; 
for failure would not only involve discredit, but 
increase the original loss by the cost of an expensive 
lawsuit. 

All the same, I was determined not to let these people 
reap the reward of their villany if I could possibly help 
it, and after long cogitation I decided on a plan of cam- 
paign which I proceeded to put into execution at the 
next Board meeting. When the Niobe claim came up 
for discussion, 1 quietly observed, to the great amaze- 
ment of the directors, that 1 did not think Barnes and 
Brandyman would insist on its payment. Of course 1 
was overwhelmed by an avalanche of questions, to which 
1 answered tliat for the moment I must keep my own 
counsel, but that at the next meeting they should know 
everything, assuring tliern that in the meantime they 
might trust me neither to compromise the company^’s 
. reputation nor involve it in any further liability. With 
this they were content, probably because they guessed 
t hat I had found something out, and were ready to 
grasp at any chance, however remote, of keeping the 
concern on its legs. 

I am a pretty good draughtsman, and when I went 
home in the evening I drew a little sketch, which I 


MR. BRANDYMAN. 


13 


made as graphic and as life-like as I could. It repre- 
sented the hold of a ship, a man boring holes 'with a big 
auger, another man behind him holding a lantern ; and, 
hovering above both, a grinning devil, in his hand a 
well-filled bag, on which was inscribed ^'££0,000.''^ 
The first man was Captain Deep, the second Mr. 
Brandyman, and both, I flatter myself, were rather 
striking portraits. 

The next morning I called at Barnes and Brandy- 
man^s oflBce and asked to see Mr. Brandyman ; for though 
not the head of the firm, he was its guiding spirit and 
[)residing genius. A pleasant-spoken, portly, fresh-com- 
plexioned, middle-aged gentleman, it" seemed the most 
natural thing in the world that he should wear mutton- 
chop whiskers and a white waistcoat, sport a big bunch 
of seals, be an important man in the town, and a shining 
light at the Rodney Street Chapel (as I understood he 
was). 

He gave me a cordial greeting, and after inquiring, 
with much seeming interest, as to my own health and 
that of my mother, he asked how the Oriental and 
Occidental was getting on. 

As well as can be expected for a new company,^^ 1 
answered, cautiously and vaguely. 

You find the Niohe papers all in order, I hope? 

Oh, yes; papers — emphasis on papers — 
appear to be quite in order. 

^^That is all right, then. When shall we send 
round for our cheque ? It is a large amount to be out 


A C^UEEll RACE. 


]4 

of. Walkers setllcd yesterday, and the other companies 
will settle to>-day, 1 believe. All the. same, there is 
no hiuTv, and if it would be more convenient next 
> ^veek 

You can send round for the cheque whenever you 
like, I\Tr. Brandyman, but ” — here I })aused a moment — 
“ I am by no means sure that you will get it.’^ 

What for, I should like to know?^^ — firing up. 

Look at this, and you will see what for.^^ 

And with that I whipped out the sketch and laid it 
before him. 

He looked at it curiously, but when its meaning 
dawned on his mind (as it did very quickly) his counten- 
ance changed as if he had seen a Gorgon^s head. His 
high colour gave place to a death-like pallor, the paper 
dropped from his trembling hand, and there was a 
hoarse gurgle in his throat which made me fear that 
he was going to have a fit. 

You seem faint, Mr. Brandyman ; drink this, and 
you will feel better,^^ I said, filling a tumbler of water 
from a carafe that stood on the table. 

Thank you,^^ he gasped. ^^•’Tis a sudden faint- 
ness. It must be the heat of the room, I think. A — a 
curious sketch this ! Where — where did you get it ? 

I drew it, Mr. Brandyman — information 1 
received^ 

Really ! — ^looking at it again ; I did not think 
you were so clever, Mr. Erie, and — and — what can I 
do for you, Mr. Erie ? 


MR. BRANDY MAN. 


15 


''Nothing at a]]. Only^ with your permission, I 
should just like to give you a hint.^^ 

" 01* course — certainly — I am sure — yes — what is 
it ? returned Mr. Brandynian, a little incoherently. 

" Well, i£ I were you, I would not send round for 
that chec^ue. We are a young company, and don^t want 
lit igation ; but 

" I will think about it, Mr. Erie. I will speak to 
my partner, and think about it. And this sketch — you 
can perhaps leave it with me. I should not like — I 
mean I should like to keep it, if you will let me. It is 
so very curious.^’’ 

" By all means. Keep it as a memento of our 
interview, Mr. Brandyman — and of the Niohe.” 

And then 1 bade him good-bye, and returned to the 
office in the full assurance that the twenty thousand 
pound cheque would never be sent for. True, I had 
no evidence of the barratry worth mentioning — from a 
legal point of view — but conscience makes cowards of us 
all. Mr. Brandyman gauged our knowledge of the facts 
by his own fears. He believed, too, though I had not 
said so, that we should resist payment of the claim ; and, 
as I could well see, he dreaded the scandal of a lawsuit, 
involving a criminal charge, as much as we dreaded 
litigation and heavy law expenses. 

The Board fully approved of what I had done, and I 
received many compliments on my smartness. I had 
saved the Oriental and Occidental from serious danger, 
and gi\cn it a new chance of life ; which is another way 


16 


A QUEER, RACE. 


of saying that I had saved the directors a good deal of 
moneyj for as all were shareholders, the failure of the 
company would have brought them both loss and 
discredit. 

A few days later Tom Bolsover called at the office to 
tell me (wffiat I knew already) that the Diana had 
arrived in the Mersey, and to remind me of my promise. 

This was quite a work of supererogation on his part. 
I was not likely to forget either his services or my 
promise, and I renewed my offer of a handsome reward; 
but he would accept nothing more valuable than a 
pound of cavendish tobacco and a box of Havana cigars. 

Shortly afterwards J saw Captain Peyton and asked 
him, as a favour to me, to grant Bolsover\s request if he 
possibly could. 

Well,'’'’ he said, smiling, Iffl do my best. Crazy 
Tom is a tliorough seaman ; and, yes — 1 daresay I can."’^ 

Crazy Tom ! I exclaimed, in surprise. Why 
crazy ? I never met a saner man in my life.^^ 

Oh, he is sane enough except on one point, and 
what is more, he s honest. A good many folks call him 
^ Honest Tom.'’ It was only on my ship they called him 
crazy. I expect that is why he left me ; and he maybe 
thinks that if I make him boatswain he will escape 
being chaff ed.^^ 

But why on earth did your people call the poor 
fellow crazy, and what did they chaff him about ? 

Well, he has a fad ; tells a yarn about a lost galleon, 
with a lot of treasure on board, and not only swears it is 


MR. BRA.NDYMAN. 


]7 




^ true, but believes the galleon is still afloat, and that one 
day or another he^ll find her."’^ 

And why shouldn'’t she be still afloat 
Well, seeing that, from his account, it’s more than 
a century since she disappeared, it is not very likely, I 
think ! The idea is perfectly ridiculous and absurd — 
crazy, in fact,’’ said (Captain Peyton, who was a bluff, 
matter-of-fact north-countryman. But all this is 
secondhand. Tom never spoke to me about it in his life, 
and he has been so unmercifully chaffed that I fancy he 
does not like to speak about it. I daresay, though, he 
would tell you the yarn if you have any curiosity on the 
subject.” 

Well, I rather think I should like to hear the story 
of the lost galleon ; for if not true, it is pretty sure to be 
interesting, and that’s the main point in a story, after 
all. Se non e vero, e hen trovato, you know.” 

However, I did not hear Tom’s yarn just then, nor 
until several things had happened which I little ex- 
pected. Captain Peyton got fresh sailing orders sooner 
than he anticipated, and made Bolsover happy by en- 
gaging him as boatswain ; and the latter was so much 
occupied that he had barely time to call and say good- 
bye ” the day before the Diana was towed out to sea. I 
did not see him again for several months, in circum- 
stances which I shall presently relate. 


o 


CHAPTER III. 


NIL DESPERANDUM. 

And now I think it is time I told how it came to pass 
that, at an age when most young men of my years have 
only just left college or begun business, I was a profes- 
sional underwriter, and virtually the manager of the 
Oriental and Occidental Insurance Company. 

My father was a merchant, and for many years a 
partner in the house of Waterhouse, Watkins, Erie and 
Co., who traded principally with the West Indies and 
South America, though, being very catholic in their 
commercial ideas, they would have shipped coals to 
Newcastle, or warming-pans to Madagascar, if they had 
been sure about their reimbursement, and could have 
seen a triding profit on the venture. 

My father, who was the travelling member of the 
firm, went about a good deal drumming ** for fresh 
business, and at one period of his life spent several years 
at Maracaibo, in Venezuela — a fact which accounts for 
my having been born there. Now, anybody who goes to 
Maracaibo as surely gets a touch of yellow fever as 
anybody who stays a winter in London gets a taste of 
yellow fog. It is a matter of course, and new-comers 
make their arrangements accordingly. My parents 


NIL I)ESi:*EEANDUM. 


19 


underwent the ordeal the year before I came into the 
world, which circumstance was supposed to confer on 
me a complete immunity from this terrible pest of the 
tropics. I was acclimatised by the mere fact of my birth. 

I cannot say that I esteemed the privilege very highly, 
for I had not the most remote intention of returning 
to Maracaibo, which from all accounts is a pestiferous, 
mosquito- haunted pandemonium. 

My poor father used to say that whatever else he 
might leave me, he should at least leave me free from 
all fear of Yellow Jack. 

As it turned out, he left me little else. After his 
return from foreign climes he settled down in Liverpool, 
took a big house in Abercrombie Square, entertained 
largely, and lived expensively. When I was about six- 
teen, and a pupil at Uppingham School, my father (who 
had been a free liver) died suddenly of apoplexy, and an 
investigation of his affairs resulted in the painful dis- 
covery that, after payment of' his liabilities, the residue 
of his estate would only provide my mother and myself 
with an income of something less than two hundred a 
year. So we had to give up our fine house in Aber- 
crombie Square and go into lodgings, and I left 
Uppingham and began to earn my own living — literally, 
for after I was seventeen I did not cost my mother a 
penny. 

The calling I took up was not of my own choosing. 
Had my father lived a little longer, or left us better off, 
I should have gone into the army. I did subsequently 
c 2 


20 


A QUEER RACE. 


join the volunteers, and after serving for a while in the 
artillery, became first lieutenant and then captain in a 
rifle regiment. In the circumstances, however, I was 
glad to accept the offer of Mr. Combie, of the firm of 
Combie, Nelson and Co., ship and insurance brokers, to 
take me into his office and j)ush me forward, ^^if I showed 
myself smart,^^ as he was sure I would. 

I justified his, confidence, and he kept his word. 
Although I would much rather have been a soldier, I had 
sense enough to give my mind to the insurance business, 
and in a comparatively short time I became familiar 
with all the intricacies of general average and particular 
average, the draughting of policies, and the rest ; and if 
T (lid not, as Captain Peyton had told Tom Bolsover, 
l<now Lloyd/ 8 Register off by heart, there was not a 
sea-going ship belonging to the port of Liverpool whose 
age, classification, and character (which meant, in many 
instances, the character of her owners) I could not tell 
without referring to the book. 

The partners often consulted me as to the premiums 
they ought to charge, and the risks which it was prudent 
for them to take ; they gave me a salary which made my 
mother and myself very comfortable, and had I been 
patient and waited a few years, I should doubtless have 
become a member of the firm. But I was ambitious ; 
and when the newly constituted Oriental and Occidental 
Marine Insurance Company invited me to become their 
underwriter, I accepted the offer without either hesitation 
or misgiving. 


NIL DESPERANDUM. 


21 


But cautious Mr. Combie shook his head. 

It^s a very fine thing'/^ he said, for a young man 
of two-and-twenty to get the writership of a company, 
and, though I say it that should not say it — to our firm. 
But you are taking a great responsibility on yourself, and 
you will need to be very prudent. Fifty thousand pounds 
is not too much capital for an insm’ance company, and 
this is a time of inflation, and the shareholders will expect 
you to earn them big dividends. Between you and me, 
1 have no great confidence in these new concerns. They 
are going up like rockets, and some of them, I fear, will 
come down like sticks. But you are young, and if the 
Oriental and Occidental does not answer your expecta- 
tions, you will still have the world before you, and I 
have always said that you are one of those chaps who 
will either make a spoon or spoil a horn.^^ 

The senior meant kindly, and I thanked him warmly ; 
but I was too much elated by my advancement to give 
due attention to his warnings, although I had good 
reason to remember them afterwards. My elation did 
not, however, arise solely, or even chiefly, from pro- 
fessional pride and gratified ambition. The fact is, I 
had lost my heart to Amy Main waring, a charming girl 
of eighteen, with peach-like cheeks, soft brown eyes, and 
golden hair ; and being as impetuous in love as I was 
diligent in business, and Amy loving me as much as I 
loved her, I had made up my mind to marry at th6 
earliest possible moment — that is to say, as soon as the 
father gave his consent amd I could afford to keep a wife. 


22 


A qtJEER RACE, 


I thought the salary which I was now beginning to earn 
would enable me to do this easily. But Mr. Mainwaring 
did not quite see the matter in the same light. He 
said we were both absurdly young, and however well off 
I might he, we should be all the better for waiting a 
while. Moreover, like Mr. Combie, he had not absolute 
confidence in the stability of the Oriental and Occidental. 

To my pressing entreaties he answered— 

Let us see what a couple of years bring forth. 
You will be quite young enough then, and the delay will 
give you a chance of laying something by for a rainy 
day.*'" 

Two years ! To Amy and me this seemed an eternity ; 
but as neither of us wanted to defy her father, and he 
was quite deaf to reason, there was nothing for it but to 
sigh and submit, and wait with such patience as we 
might for the fruition of our hopes. 

Time went on, and long before the period of probation 
expired I had to acknowledge that Mr. Mainwaring"s 
caution had more warrant than my confidence. After 
doing a brilliant business during the first six months of 
our career, the tide turned, and in a very short time we 
lost nearly all we had made. For this result — though 
we had really very ill-luck — I fear that I was in part 
responsible. I was too keen and sanguine; I did not 
like to turn money away. I had not Mr. Combie and 
Mr. Nelson to consult with, and I underwrote risks that 
I ought to have refused. I had not always the choice, 
however ; for our paid-up capital l)eing small, first-class 


NIL DBSPBRANDUM. 


23 


insurers fought shy of us, fine business went elsewhere, 
and I had to take my pick among the residue and 
remainder. 

This was the state of things eighteen months after I 
joined the Oriental and Occidental ; and had I not got 
over the difficulty about the Niobe, it is extremely 
probable that the company would have smashed or I 
should have been dismissed. In either event I should 
have lost my occupation, and in either event Mr. Main- 
waring would, I felt sure, have insisted on the rupture 
of my engagement with his daughter. 

Hence my prospects, whether business or matrimonial, 
were not of the brightest, and Amy and I were often in 
horribly low spirits. We had thought two years a 
terrible time, and now I began to fear that I might have 
to wait for her as long as Jacob had to wait for Rachel. 
I am bound to say, however, that our gloom was re- 
lieved by rather frequent gleams of gaiety and happi- 
ness. One does not despair at three-and-twenty. 


CHAPTER IV. 

CRAZY TOM^S YARN. 

After 1115 memorable interview with Mr. Brandy man, 
things took a more favourable turn with the Oriental and 
Occidental. We had better luck, and I took more 
care, preferring rather to do a small business than run 
great risks. Our spirits rose with the shares of the com- 
pany — mine and Amy’s as well as the directors^ — and we 
began to think we were on the highway to prosperity, 
when a misfortune befell which scattered our hopes to 
the winds. The Great Northern Bank (like our own, 
a limited liability concern of recent creation) suspended 
at a time when we had a heavy balance to credit, and the 
very day after we had paid away several large cheques 
in settlement of claims. The cheques, of course, came 
back to us, and as we had no means of taking them 
up, we too had to suspend. 

I lost my place, of course — a defunct company has 
no need of an underwriter; and worse — I had taken a 
part of my salary in shares, and on these shares there 
was an unpaid liability which absorbed all my savings. 
The collapse of the company left me as poor as when I 
entered Combie and Nelson^s office seven years before; 
and by way of filling up my cup of bitterness to the 


craf.t tom^s yarn. 


25 


brim, Mr. Mainwaring informed me (in a letter other- 
wise very kind and sympathetic) that my engagement 
with Amy must be considered at an end. He did not 
forbid me to visit his house, but he said plainly that the 
seldomer I came the better he should be pleased. 

I thought he was hard, but I felt he was right. 
What was the use of a man being engaged to be married 
who had no present means of keeping himself, miuh 
less a wife? All the same, Amy and I swore eternal 
constancy, and we vowed that, come weal, come woe, 
neither of us would ever marry anybody else ; and I 
thought she really meant it — I am sure I did. 

This conclusion, however satisfactory so far as it 
went, did not afford much help towards a solution of the 
pressing question of the moment : What should I do ? — 
how avoid becoming a burden on my mother ? I had 
asked Mr. Combie to take me back ; but my place was 
filled up, and as a severe financial crisis had just set in 
there was little chance of my finding a place elsewhere. 
Firms and banks were falling like ninepins, and men of 
business looked and talked as if the world were coming 
to an end. A word to any of them about finding me a 
situation would have been regarded as an insult to his 
understanding. 

While I was revolving these things in my mind, and 
wondering what on earth I should do, I received a call 
from Captain Peyton, who had lately returned from one 
voyage and was about to start on another. He condoled 
with me over the failure, and inquired what I thought 


26 


A QUKEH RACE. 


of doing/^ whereupon, as he was an old friend, I told 
him of my difficulties, and asked his advice. 

*'What do I think you should do?^^ he exclaimed, 
cheerily. Why, what can you do better than come 
with me to Monte Video ? I mean, of course, as m}^ 
guest. Make the round trip; you will be back in six 
months, and by that time business will be better, and 
}'ou will get as many berths as you want. Young men 
of your capacity and energy are not too plentiful. What 
do you say ? 

Yes, with all my heart ! I answered, grasping his 
hand. “ Thanks, a thousand times thanks. Captain 
Peyton ! I have long wanted to make a deep-sea 
voyage, and after the turmoil and anxiety of the last 
few weeks the Diana will be a veritable haven of rest, 
When do you sail ? ^ 

In a fortnight or.so.^' ’ 

All right; 1 shall be ready. I suppose Bolsoveris 
still with you ? 

Yes, Crazy Tom is our boatswain ; and a good one 
he makes. He will maybe tell you that yarn of his, if 
you take him when he is in the humour. I tried him 
one day, but it was no go. He would not bite. I expect 
he thought I wanted to chaff him.^^ 

‘‘ Yarn ? yarn ? Oh, I remember. Something about 
a galleon, isn’t it ? ” 

Yes; a Spanish treasure^ship, lost ages ago. The 
cmzy beggar believes she is still aHoat. He is sane on 
every other point, though. However, you get him to 


CEAZY tom’s YAEN. 


27 


tell 3'’ou all about it. It is a romantic sort of yarn, I 
fancy.^^ 

When we get to sea ? ** 

Yes ; that will be the time. When we get into 
the north-east trades, all sails set aloft and alow, and 
there is not much going on — that is your time for 
spinning yarns/^ 

Shortly after this I heard a piece of news which 
(‘oinpleted the tale of my misfortunes, and made me 
w retched beyond measure. I heard that Amy Main- 
waring was engaged to young Kelson ! If my mother 
had not seen it in a letter written by Amy herself to a 
< ommon friend, I couldn’t have believed it ; but in- 
credulity was impossible. I was terribly cut up and 
extremely indignant, and vowed that I would never 
have anything to do with a woman again — in the way 
of love. 

Two days later we were at sea. The Diana was a 
line, full-rigged merchantman, one thousand two hund- 
riKl tons burden, with an auxiliary screw and a crew of 
thirty-nine men, a miscellaneous cargo of Brummagem 
ware, Manchester cottons, and Bradford stuffs. She 
had half a dozen passengers, with all of whom (except, 
)>erhaps, a young fellow who was taking a sea voyage 
for the benefit of his health) time was more plentiful 
than money. . For all that, or perhaps because of that, 
they were very nice fellows. 

We had lots of books amongst us, and what with 
reading, talking, smoking, sauntering on deck, playing 


28 


A QUEER RACE. 


whist and chess, the days passed swiftly and pleasantly. 
Now and again we gave a sort of mixed entertainment 
in the saloon, at whiqh the skipper and as many of the 
ship^s company as could be spared from their duties on 
deck were present. Two of the passengers could sing 
comic songs, one fiddled, another recited; I played an 
accordion and performed a few conjuring tricks, and one 
way and another we amused our audiences immensely, 
and won great applause. 

I naturally saw a good deal of Tom Bolsover, but in 
the early part of the voyage the weather was so variable 
and he so busy that he had little time for conversation, 
and we exchanged only an occasional word. But when 
we got into the region of the trades he had more leisure, 
and going forward one fine morning, I found him 
sitting on a coil of rope, apparently with nothing more 
important to do than smoke his pipe and stare at the sails. 

" I was very sorry to hear of the busting up of that 
’ere company,^^ he said, after we had exchanged a few 
remarks about things in general. 

Yes, you saved us twenty thousand pounds, and I 
thought that would pull us through ; but we lost twice 
as much by the suspension of our bankers, and then we 
were up a tree, and no mistake. 

I hope you did not lose much by it, sir 
Well, I lost my situation and all my money, and I 
had a very nice sum laid by.^^ 

All your money ! Dear, dear ! I am very sorry. 
But you surely don't mean quite all ? " 


CRAZY TOM^S YARX. 


29 


'' YcSj I do. I have v(‘iy little more left than I stand 
up in. But what of that? I am young*, the world is 
before me, and when I get haek T shall try again. T 
mean to make my fortune and he somebody yet, Bols- 
over, before I am very much older."’^ 

“ Fortune ! fortune ! If we could only find the Santa 
Anna we should both make our fortunes right off. There 
is gold and silver enough on that ship for a hundred 
fortunes, and big 'uns at that.^^ 

The Santa An7ia ! What is the Santa Anna, and 
where is she ? 

I wish I knew,^"^ said the old sailor, with a sigh ; 
wish I knew. It is what I have been trying to find 
out these thirty years and more. Ifil tell you all about 
it — lowering his voice to a confidential whisper — only 
d< n’t let the others know — they laugh af me, and say I 
am crazy. But never mind ; let them laugh as wins. I 
shall find her yet. I donT think I could die without 
finding her. You wonT say anything 
“ Not a word."*^ 

Well,^’ went on the boatswain, after a few pensive 
pulls at his pipe, it came about in this way. My 
father, he was a seafaring man like myself. He has 
been dead thirty-three years. HeM have been nigh on 
ninety by this time if he had lived. Well, my father — 
he was a seafaring man, youfil remember — my father 
chanced to be at the Azores — a good many people sees 
the Azores, leastways Pico, but not many lands there — 
but my father did, and stopped a month or two — I don^t 


30 


A QUEER RACE. 


know what for — and being a matter of sixty years since, 
it does not much matter. Well, while he was there, he 
used to go about in a boat, all alone, fishing and looking 
round — my father was always a curiosisli sort of man, 
and he had an eye like a hawk. Well, one day he was 
sailing round the island they calls Corvo, very close in- 
shore, when he spies, in a crevice of a cliff — the coast is 
uncommon rugged — he spies something as didn’t look 
quite like a stone — it was too round and regular like ; so 
he lowers his sail, takes his sculls, and goes and gets it. 
What do you think it was ?” 

** I have no idea. A bottle of rum, perhaps.^’ 

''No, no, not that,” said Tom, with a hurt look, as 
if I had been jesting with a sacred subject. It was a 
tin case. It had been there a matter of forty or fifty 
years, maybe, washed up by the sea, and never seen by a 
soul before it was spied by my father. Inside the case 
was a dokyment as told how, in 1741, a British man-of- 
war captured the Santa Anna, a Spanish galleon, with 
millions of money on board.” 

" jVlillions 1 Not millions of pounds ? ** 

" Yes, millions of pounds. She was a big ship, 
carried forty guns, and must have been a matter of two 
thousand tons burden. Now, a ship of that size can 
hold a sight of gold and silver, Mr. Erie,” 

" Rather. Almost as much as there is in all England, 
I should say.” 

" Just so, Mr, Erie,” said Bolsover, with glistening 
eyes. " Suppose she carried no more than one thousand 


CRAZY TOMS YARN. 


Hi 

five hundred tons dead weight, and half of it was gold 
and half silver, that would be a pile of money — make 
baskets and buckets full of sovereigns and crowns and 
shillings, to say nothing of sixpences and fourpenny- 
pieces, wouldn’t it, sir ? ** 

Cartloads ! Why, you might give away a few 
wheelbarrows full without missing them.” As the poor 
fellow was evidently quite cracked on the subject, I 
thought it best to humour him. But you surely don^t 
mean to say that the galleon was full — bang up full of 
gold and silver ? 

Yes, I do; and why not? Doesn^t [the dokyment 
say as she was a richly laden treasuroship ? and doesn^t 
it stand to reason as if she was richly laden — mark 
them words, sir, ‘ richly laden ^ — that she must ha' been 
full ? " 

Why, yes, it does look so, when you come to 
think about it,” I said, gravely. The man who 
finds the Santa Anna will have a grand haul; nothing 
so sure." 

“ Won’t he ! " returned the boatswain, gleefully, in 
his excitement chucking his pipe into the sea. Now, 
look here, Mr. Erie ; you said you was poor — as you 
had lost all the money as you had. Here’s a chance 
for you to get it all back, and twenty thousand times 
more ! Help me to find the Santa Amia, and we will 
go halves— share and share alike, you know." 

Thank you very much, Bolsover. It's a very 
handsome offer on your part, and I am awfully obliged ; 


32 


A QUEER RACE. 


})at as yet I must own to being just a little in the dark. 
Say exactly what it is you want me to do. If it is a 
(*ase of diving, I donH think I am the man for you ; for, 
though a fair swimmer, I could never stay long under 
. water, and I don^t understand diving-bells.^^ 

No, no, sir ; the Santa Anna never foundered ; she 
is on the sea, not under it. You surely don’t think, sir, 
as God A’mighty would let all that money go to Davy 
Jones’s locker? As far as I can make out, alltheship^s 
company died of thirst. When that dokyment was 
written, they was dreadful short of water ; and the ship 
became a derelict, and went on knocking about all by 
lierself — is, may be, knocking about yet — she was teak- 
built and' very staunch — or otherwise she has run aground 
on some out-of-the-way island, or drifted into a cove or 
inlet of the sea. Anyhow, she is worth looking after; 
and I have always thought as if some gentleman would 
give me a helpin’ hand — somebody with more ’ead and 
edycation than I have myself — we should be sure to 
si\ceeed in the end ; nay, I am sure we should — I feel it; 
I know it. Will you help me, Mr. Erie? I cannot tell 
you how — I am only a common seafaring man ; but you 
are a scholar, with a head like a book. They say as you 
knows Lloyd’s Register by heart, and a man as can learn 
Lloyd’s Register by heart can do anything.” 

You are very complimentary, Bolsover, and I am 
extremely obliged for your good opinion. But you give 
me credit for a good deal more cleverness than I possess; 
for, tempting as is an offer of half a shipload of gold 


CKAZY TOM^S YARN. 


33 


and silver, I really don^t see what 1 can do. If I were 
a skipper and had a ship, or a rich man and owned a 
yacht, I might possibly help you ; but you must see 
yourself that I cannot go about exploring every island 
and inlet and cove in the world, or keep sailing round it 
until I spot the derelict Santa Anna, particularly as you 
don^t seem to have the least idea where she was when 
last heard of.^^ 

There you are mistaken, Mr. Erie. I could a’most 
[)ut my finger on the very spot. But will you read the 
dokyment ? Then you will know all about it — more 
than I know myself, for a man as can learn Lloyd/ s 
Register ** 

The document ! The paper your father found ! 
You surely don'^t mean to say you have it ? I exclaimed, 
in surprise ; for up to that moment I had thought the 
boatswain’s story pure illusion, and himself as crazy on 
the point as Peyton said he was. 

Yes, I have it. My father, he gave it me just 
afore he died. ' Tom,’ he says, ^ I cannot leave you no 
money, but I gives you this dokyment. Take care of it, 
and look out for the Santa Anna, and you’ll die a rich 
man.’ Will you read it, Mr. Erie ?” 

Certainly. I’ll read it with pleasure.” 

Bolsover rose from the coil of ropes, slipped into the 
forecastle, and in a few minutes came back, with a smile 
of satisfaction on his face and a highly polished tin case 
in his hand. 

Here it is,” he said ; you’ll find it inside,” 


34 


A qUEER RACE. 


But this is surely not the case yonr father found 
at the Azores ? ” 

No. That was all rusty and much battered. He 
had hard work to get the dokyment out without spoiling 
it. He got this case made a-purpose. Nobody has 
ever read it hut him and me. Everybody as I mentioned 
it to always laughed, and that made me not like showing 
it. When you have read it, Mr. Erie, you^ll tell me 
what you think. But keep the dokyment to yourself. 
What^s least said is soonest mended, you know ; and if 
you was to mention it to the others theyM only laugh. 
And now — looking at his watch — ** I must pipe up the 
second dog-watch.^^ 

Promising to observe the utmost discretion, I put the 
tin case in my pocket, went to the after-part of the ship, 
lighted a cigar, sat me down on a Southampton chair, 
and proceeded to carry out Tom^s wish by reading the 
paper which had so much excited his imagination, and 
was now, in spite of myself, beginning to excite mine. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE DOCUMENT. 

The document,'^ as poor Tom called it, though it seemed 
to have been carefully used (the leaves beiug neatly 
stitched together and protected by a canvas cover), had 
suffered much from wear and tear, the rust of the original 
tin case, and the frequent thuinbings of its two readers. 
The ink was faded, the handwriting small and crabbed ; 
the lines were, moreover, so very close together that I 
found the perusal, or, more correctly, the study of the 
manuscript by no means easy. Parts of it, in fact, were 
quite illegible. I had often to infer the meaning of the 
writer from the context, and there were several passages 
which I could not make out at all. 

No wonder the boatswain wanted a man of ^ead 
and edycation to help him. The form of the document 
was that of a journal, or log ; but it was hardly possible 
that it could be the work of any combatant officer of a 
warship on active service. The style was too literary 
and diffuse, and, so to speak, too womanish and devout. 
The writer, moreover, whose name, as I read on, I found 
to be Hare,^^ did not write in the least like a seaman, 
lie could not well have been a passenger ; and I had not 
P % 


36 


A QUEER RACE. 


read far before I found that he was a clergyman and 
naval chaplain. 

The first entry in the diary was probably written at 
Spithead, and ran thus ; — 

UM.S. Hecate, . . . 17th, 1743. 

** Left our moorings this day, under sealed orders, so 
as yet no man on board knows whither we are bound or 
where we are to cruise. May God bless and prosper our 
voyage, and protect the dear ones we leave at home ! 

19th. — Been very much indisposed the last two 
days; not very surprising, considering that this is my 
first voyage, and we have had bad weather. Wind now 
moderating, but still blowing half a gale. 

20th. — The captain has opened his orders. The 
llecate is to sail with all speed across the Atlantic, cruise 
about the Gulf of Mexico, in the track of homeward- 
bound Spanish merchantmen, and keep a sharp look-out 
for treasure-ships. Officers and ship^s company highly 
delighted with the prospect thus opened out of prize- 
money and hard-fighting, these treasure-ships being 
always either heavily armed or under convoy, or both. 
To do the Hecate justice, I believe the prospect of hard 
knocks affords them more pleasure than the hope of 
reward ; and though we carry only forty guns, there is 
not a sailor on board who is not confident that we are a 
match for any two Spanish frigates afloat. Our British 
tars are veritable bulldogs, and albeit Captain Barnaby 
does sometimes indulge in profane swearing, the Royal 
Navy possesses not a better man nor a braver officer." 


THE DOCUMENT. 


Next followed a series of unimportant entries, such 
as : — 

** Church parade and divine service.^* 

** In the sick-bay, reading the Bible to Bill Thompson, 
A.B., who fell yesterday from one of the yardarms, and 
lies a-dying, poor fellow.^^ 

Dined with the captain, the second luff, and two of 
the young gentlemen."’^ 

This day a flying fish came through my port-hole. 
One of the ship'^s boys caught him, and the cook made 
an excellent dish of him for the gun-room mess. It 
seemed a shame to kill a creature who sought our 
hospitality and protection, for he was doubtless escaping 
from some enemy of the sea or the air.^^ 

And so on, and so on. All this did not occupy much 
space, yet, owing to the reverend gentleman^s crabbed 
fist, the faded ink, and the thumb-marks of the two 
Bolsovers, it took long to read; and in order not to miss 
anything, I had made up my mind to read every word 
that it was possible to decipher. 

At length my patience and perseverance received tlieir 
reward. The diary became gradually less tedious and 
monotonous. There was a storm in which the Hecate suf- 
fered some damage, and the diarist (who does not seem 
to have been particularly courageous) underwent con- 
siderable anxiety and discomfort ; and a man fell over- 
board, and, after an exciting attempt to rescue him, was 
drowned. Then the Hecate chases a vessel which 
Captain Barnaby suspects to be a French privateer ; but 


S8 


A QtJEBft HACii. 


remembering how imperative are his orders to make with 
all speed his cruising-ground^ he resumes his course after 
following her a few hours. For the same reason he 
shows a clean pair of heels to a French frigate, greaf ly 
tc) the disgust of his crew, for though she is of superior 
size they are quite sure they could have bested her. The 
chaplain, on the other hand, warmly commends the 
captain^s prudence, observing that discretion in a com- 
mander is to the full as essential as valour.^^ 

The region of the Gulf reached, everybody is on the 
watch. There is always a look-out at the masthead, the 
officers are continually sweeping the horizon with their 
glasses, and the men are exercised daily at quarters ; for 
Captain Barnaby, with all his prudence, appears to have 
been a strict disciplinarian. Being of opinion that he 
will the better attain his object by remaining outside the 
Gulf of Mexico than by going inside, he cruises several 
weeks in the neighbourhood of the Bahamas. With 
little success, however ; he captures only two or three 
vessels of light tonnage and small value, which he 
takes to Nassau, in New Providence. 

Ill-satisfied with tliis poor result, Barnaby resolves to 
take a turn in the Gulf, and, if he does no good there, to 
make a dash south, in the hope that he may perchance 
encounter some homeward-bound galleon from Chili or 
Peru. So passing through the Straits of Florida, he 
runs along the northern shores of Cuba, doubles Cape 
San Antonio, revictuals at Kingston, in Jamaica, and re- 
enters the South Atlantic between Trinidad and Tobago. 


TllH DOCUMENT. 


A fortunate move was this in one sense, though, so far 
as the poor chaplain and a considerable part of the ship^s 
company were concerned, it resulted in dire misfortune. 

Ten days after the Hecate left the Caribbean Sea, two 
ships were sighted, which the captain and everybody 
else on hoard believed to he the long-sought treasure - 
ships. But besides being treasure-ships, they had every 
appearance of being heavily armed galleons, and either 
of them, as touching weight of metal and strength of 
crew, was probably more than the frigate's match. All 
the same, the Hecate's crew were full of fight and eager 
for the fray, and the captain had not the remotest in- 
tention of balking their wishes. But he was prudent 
withal, and though quite ready, if needful, to tackle the 
two Spaniards together, he thought it as well — doubtless 
on the principle of not throwing a chance away — to fight 
them singly if he could, and took his measures accordingly. 

What these measures were, I had some difficulty in 
making out. I am not a seaman, and Mr. Hare's 
account, besides being in part illegible, was by no means 
as clear as it might have been. I will, however, do my 
best to describe in plain, untechnical language, as any 
landsman would, the things that came to pass after the 
commander of the Hecate resolved to engage the gal- 
leons single-handed. 

The chaplain never gave the frigate's reckoning ; but 
I concluded (in which opinion Bolsover, with whom I 
afterwards discussed the point, concurred) that at this 
time she was probably a few degrees south of the 


40 


A (iUEKH ilACii. 


equator, and not far from the 0()ast of Brazil_, sailing 
west-sou’-west ; while the galleons_, wlien first seen_, were 
sailing nor’-east by north. One of them seems to have 
been a little in advance of the other, and Captain 
Baniaby^s plan was to entice the first — and therefore 
presumably the faster sailer — to follow him, and so 
separate the two ships as widely as possible before 
engaging. To this end he spread all the canvas he 
could, but slowly and clumsily, in order to give the 
idea that he was short-handed, and then slipped a spar 
over the ship’s stern as a drag to check her speed. 

The bait took. The galleons, after exchanging 
signals, hoisted the Spanish flag, whereupon the leading 
vessel (which, as afterwards appeared, was the Santa 
Anria, the other being the Rui/ Bias) gave chase. She 
was by no means a bad sailer, and came on so fast that 
Captain Barnaby soon found it expedient to haul in the 
spar and go ahead. But when he had got her fairly 
away, the course of the Hecate was suddenly changed. 
Turning on her heel, so to speak, she passed the Santa 
Annans bows, delivering a broadside that raked her from 
stem to stern ; and before the Spaniards had time to 
recover from the confusion into which they were thrown 
by this unexpected salute, the frigate ran alongside and 
gave her a second broadside. As Captain Barnaby had 
given orders to fire high and take careful aim, the two 
broadsides wrought great havoc Santa Annans 

rigging. A topmast and several other spars were shot 
away, the shrouds cut into ribbons, and altogether so 


I'HE BOrUMENf. 41 

mucii damage was done that she could by no possibility 
make a move for several hours. 

Captain Barnaby next turned his attention to the 
Ruy BlaSj which was gallantly bearing up to her 
consort^s help. The Hecate^ having got the weather 
gauge, was quite prepared, and the two ships were soon 
at close quarters. The Spaniards stood well to their 
guns, and a hot fight followed, which, according to 
Mr. Hare, lasted nearly an hour. 

The scene on deek,^^ wrote the poor chaplain, was 
past describing. The half-naked sailors, working the 
guns, their bodies streaming with perspiration, their 
faces blackened with powder-smoke, themselves wild 
with excitement, cheering and yelling like fiends ; the 
officers brandishing their swords and shouting their 
orders ; the roar of artillery ; the crash of the Spaniards’ 
balls as they struck our hull ; and, above all, the dreadful 
pools of blood at my feet, and the screams of the poor 
stricken ones as they fell at their posts or writhed in 
agony on the deck, thrilled my soul with horror, and, 
though I prayed fervently for the success of our arms, 
I feared that God would never bless a victory gained at 
so terrible a price. 

But the horror of the sights on deck was surpassed 
by the scene in the cockpit, where, during the engage- 
ment, I spent nearly all my time, helping the surgeon, 
and doing my utmost to solace and console the poor 
wounded. Their sufferings were heartrending; the 
sight of their mangled bodies was almost more than I 


u 


A (^tJBKR ttACill. 


coulcl boar, and T bad sevenil <rimes to turn away, or I 
Hlionld have swooned outright. 

Poor Myers, a tiny midshipman of fourteen, a fair- 
haired and sweet-tempered boy, whom I greatly loved, 
was brought down, shot through the lungs. The surgeon 
shook his head. ^ He is beyond my skill,' he whispered. 
‘ 1 must leave him to you.’ The poor child looked at me 
with lack-lustre eyes ; the pallor of death was on his 
face ; and as I tried to cheer him with hopes of a speedy 
release from his sufferings, and a happy hereafter, 
the tears streamed down my cheeks, and 1 could scarce 
speak for sobbing. But he seemed to be looking afar 
off*, and gave no heed. ‘Mother, mother,' he moaned, 
‘ I am coming home ;' and then he died. 

“ 1 was turning to the surgeon to tell him that all 
was over, when we were affrighted and almost thrown 
off our feet by a terrific explosion, which shook the ship 
from stem to stern, and made her heel over as if she had 
been struck by a heavy sea. 

“ Not knowing what had befallen, but fearing the 
worst, I ran up the hatchway. The firing had ceased, 
and consternation was written on every face. I had no 
need to ask the cause. The Bias had blown up, 
and parts of her, which had been projected to a pro- 
digious height, were still falling into the water, where, 
amid a tangled mass of floating wreckage that dark- 
ened the surface of the sea, were struggling a few 
human forms, sole survivors of the catastrophe. 

''As humane as he was brave. Captain Barnaby 




48 


ordered boats to be lowered. His commands were 
promptly obeyed, and the men succeeded in rescuing- 
about a score of Spaniards, some of whom were dread- 
fully hurt. These were taken into the cockpit, and our 
surgeon had his hands full indeed; but the tale of 
wounded was now complete, for the captain of the Santa 
Anna, appalled by the disaster which had overtaken his 
consort, struck his flag at the first summons. As all had 
anticipated, she proved to be a rich treasure-ship, being 
— so ran the report on board the Hecate — laden with 
little else than gold and silver ; and ofl^icers and men 
were soon engaged in computing how much prize-money 
they were likely to receive. In anticipation they aie 
already rich, but the amount is a matter of conjecturt' ; 
for a guard has been put over the treasure, and Captain 
Barnaby declares that he will not have it overhauled 
until we reach port. 

* * * * -^ * 

** The Santa Annans damages have been made good, 
and a prize crew put on board ; and as we have two 
hundred Spanish prisoners (who might, were they left on 
the galleon, attempt to retake her), a hundred of them are 
to be transferred to the Hecate. The captain, who had at 
first some idea of calling at one of the West India Islands, 
or at Nassau, has finally decided to make straight for 
England, and our course has been shaped accordingly. 

****** 
Another terrible day, the events of which I can 
only briefly set down. 


44 


A l^UiiKR HACifi. 


Shortly after six this morning* I was roused from a 
sound sleep by the wardroom steward. ‘ You had better 
get up, Mr. Hare/ he said. ^ The ship is on fire/ 

Alas ! it was only too true. 

After a fight, discipline is always more or less re- 
laxed. The spirit-room had been inadvertently left 
open, and some unauthorised person, going in with a 
naked light, accidentally set fire to a can of rum, which, 
running over the floor, set everything in a blaze. 

The woodwork, desiccated by the heat of the tropics, 
was as dry as tinder, and the conflagration spread with 
frightful rapidity. When I reached the deck, although 
only a few minutes had elapsed since the alarm was 
given, smoke was coming up the after-hatchway, and 
the crew, under the direction of the captain, were doing 
their utmost to put out the fire. Pumps were going ; 
buckets were being passed from hand to hand; the 
decks were deluged with water, and tons of it poured 
into the hold. 

But all to little purpose ; and after half an hour^s 
strenuous exertion, I heard the captain give an order 
which showed that he despaired of saving the ship. It 
was to lower the boats and remove the wounded to the 
Santa Anna, under charge of the surgeon and chaplain. 

It was a dreadful task, .and caused some of the 
poor maimed creatures most exquisite pain ; but sailors 
are wonderfully deft and handy, and the order was 
executed in a much shorter time than might be supposed. 

''Yet, short as the time was, the fire had visibl)> 


THE DOCUMENT. 


45 


gained ground, and we watched its progress from the 
deck of the Santa Anjta with unspeakable anxiety. J3ut 
not until the after-part of the ship was wrapped in flames, 
and her destruction imminent, did the captain give up 
the attempt to save her, and order the crew to take to 
t he boats and come on board the Santa Anna, which was 
lu)ve-to at about a cablets length away. He was the 
last to leave the deck, and ten minutes after he quitted 
it the Hecate was one mass of flame, a burning fiery 
t urn ace, the heat of which we could feel even on the 
galleon^s deck. 

We watched the fire until it hurut down to the 
water’s edge and was extinguished by the sea, leaving 
nothing of the once gallant war-ship behind save a few 
(diarred fragments. Then, the wind being fair, orders 
were given to make sail, and we went on our course, not 
without hope, despite the omens, of a speedy and happy 
termination of our eventful cruise. 

'^Most of the officers and men have lost all their 
effects in the fire •, but, thanks to the thoughtfulness and 
courage of the boy who waits on me, I have .saved a 
good part of my wardrobe, some writing materials, and 
nearly all my books. 

****** 

^^The captain informed me this morning that he is 
very well pleased with the Santa Anna. She is one of 
the best built ships he ever saw, being constructed of a 
wood called teak, hard enough and stout enough to last 
a century. She is also a good sailer^ and, with favourable 


46 


A qUEEK RACE. 


weather and moderate luck, we may, he thinks, reach 
Portsmouth in about fifty days. 

I sincerely hope so, and pray God he may prove a 
true prophet ; for I am sick of the sea, and so soon as we 
g“et home I shall resign my appointment, and seek a less 
exciting, if more monotonous, sphere of duty ashore. 

****** 

** A terrible discovery was made yesterday. We are 
short of water. 

'^According to the purser’s calculations, made the 
day after the burning of the Hecate^ the suy)ply on 
hoard the Santa Anna was amply sufficient for the voyage 
to England ; but it now turns out that several of the 
casks which he thought were full are quite empty, and 
we have not more than enough for ten days’ consumption. 
We are already on short allowance, and Captain Barnaby 
has decided to make for the Bermudas. 

** It is very unfortunate this discovery was not made 
sooner, for at the best we cannot reach New Providence 
in less than fifteen days, and if we have bad weather or 

contrary winds But I will not anticipate evil. 

We are in the hands of Him whom the winds and waves 
obey. 

****** 

For two days it has blown a hurricane, and we 
have been driven hundreds of miles out of our course. 
The allowance of water is reduced to a quart a day for 
each man for all purposes, and as it is terribly hot, and 


THK DOCUMENT. 


47 


as our diet consists chiefly of salt pork and hard biscuits, 
our sufferings are almost past bearing. 

****** 
^'Becalmed. Allowance reduced to a pint. 
****** 

** Still becalmed. To-day a deputation from the 
crew waited on the captain, and requested that, in order 
to economise water, and, perchance, save their lives, the 
Spanish prisoners should be thrown overboard. This he 
refused to do, but he ordered the Spaniards’ allowance 
to be reduced to half a pint. 

* * * * * * 

The Spaniards, maddened by thirst, have attempted 
to seize the ship. A number of them, who were allowed 
to walk on deck, secretly released their comrades, and 
attacked • the watch — some with cutlasses obtained I 
know not how, others with marline-spikes, or whatever 
else came to hand. The Englishmen at first driven 
from the deck were speedily reinforced, and then ensued 
a frightful struggle in the dark, the Spaniards, utterly 
reckless of their lives, fighting with the ferocity of 
despair. But in the end they were overcome, the 
wounded (and I fear many of the whole) thrown into 
the sea, and the survivors forced below and put in irons. 
The captain, himself sorely hurt, had great difficulty in 
protecting them from the fury of his men, who, if they 
might have had their way, would not have left a single 
Spaniard alive. 

****** 

"Still becalmed. Oh, how gladly would we give 


48 


A QUEER RACE. 


this tbricc accursed treasure for a few casks of water, or 
even a few hours^ rain ! 

****** 

** 1 am sick — I fear, nay, I hope, unto death, for I 
suffer so horribly from thirst that death would be a 
ha})py release. Yesterday two seamen committed suicide, 
and my dear friend, Captain Barnaby, has died of his 
wounds and want of water, since, hurt though he was, 
he nobly refused to take more than his share. 

The command now devolves on Lieutenant Fane, 
lie is a first-rate seaman, and a man of resolute and 
original character, but he has some strange ideas. 
****** 

** I write this with difficulty. I am worse. To-morrow 
I may not be able to write, and as 1 have no hope of 
ever seeing England again, I know not what will become 
of the ship and her crew. I am about to enclose my 
diary (which contains a narrative of the principal events 
that have befallen us since the Hecate left England) 
in a water-tight case and commit it to the waves. It 
may perad venture be found after many days. . . . 

" I beseech any good soul into whose hands these 
pages may fall to forward them to [illegible] Surrey, 
England, or to the Secretary of the Admiralty, London. 
On board the galleon Santa Anna, 

February 7, 1744. 


Robert Harb.'^ 


CHAPTER VI. 

OF THE SAME OPINION STILL. 

Poor fellow ! I wonder what became of him and 
the others ? But why on earth didn^t they distil fresh 
water from sea water were the first thoughts that 
occurred to me after reading the chaplain's narrative. 

And then I remembered that the events in question 
took place in a pre-scientific age ; that there was cer- 
tainly no distilling apparatus on board the Santa Anna, 
nor, probably, any means of making one large enough 
to provide for the requirements of two or three hundred, 
possibly three or four hundred, men. 

Again, why did not they take to their boats and try 
to reach land that way instead of waiting helplessly for 
a wind, with a certainty that if it did not come quickly 
they must all perish ? But I knew not how far they 
were from the nearest land, for the chaplain never indi- 
cated the position of the ship, and seldom gave the date 
or even the days of the week, so that the length of time 
which elapsed between the different events set forth in 
the manuscript was a matter of pure conjecture. It 
was, moreover, quite possible that the Santa Anna*s 
boats had been smashed by the Hecate* s fire, and, in any 
ease, they could not have held the crew and the prisoners 


50 


A. QUEEE RACE. 


and enough provisions and water for a long voyage. I 
could, however, see nothing to warrant the boatswain^s 
belief that the galleon had become derelict or been 
cast away. Men can live a long time on a very short 
allowance of water ; the chaplain would naturally be 
one of the first to succumb, and when the weak ones 
died off there would be more water for the survivors. 
Besides, who could say that a breeze had not sprung up, 
or a heavy shower of rain fallen, the very day after poor 
Mr. Hare committed his diary to the waves? 

I found no opportunity for a few days of speaking 
to Bolsover again, except in the presence of others. But 
when the chance came, I returned him his ^^dokyment,'^ 
which, in the meanwhile, 1 had carefully reperused. 

Well, sir,^^ he asked, anxiously, what do you 
think ? 

Believing that I c<jiild do the poor fellow no greater 
kindness than to cure him of his hallucination, if that 
were possible, I said that in my opinion there was about 
as much likelihood of tinding the Sa/ita Anna as of find- 
ing the lost Atlantis or the philosopher's stone. 

I doidt know much about them there, answered 
'fom, who did not seem greatly impressed by the com- 
parison ; but if you mean as you think there is no 
likelihood of finding that there galleon, I should be glad 
to know why you think so, if you would kindly tell me.'' 

‘'Well, to begin with, there is no proof either that 
the people on board the Santa Anna died of thirst, as 
you suppose, or that she became derelict." 


OF THE SAME OPINION STILL. 61 

Doesn^t that gentleman as wrote the dokyment 
say as he lay a-dying, and that the men were so punished 
for want of water that they had begun to jump over- 
board 

** Two jumped overboard, which I suppose is what 
the chaplain meant when he said they had cominitte<l 
suicide. But doiiT you see that every death made a 
drinker the less? The weak would be the first to go; the 
strongest, seeing that they vVould have a fair supply of 
water, might live for weeks — months, even.^' 

•Bolsover^s countenance fell ; this was a view of the 
matter that had not occurred to him. 

And how do you know,^^ I went on, " that the 
Santa Attna did not get to England — or somewhere else 
— after all ? Even in the Doldrums calms donT last for 
ever.^^ 

Well, I think I do know that she didnT< get to 
England/' said Tom, quietly. My father, he thought 
of that, and he went to a lawyer chap and pretended as 
there was somebody on board the Hecate as belonged to 
him — a great-uncle by his mother's side — and that he 
wanted to find out what had become of him — a proof of 
his death — and he got the lawyer chap to write to the 
Admiralty." 

And did 1 he lawyer chap get an answer ? " 

” Yes, after waiting a long time, and writing five 
or six letters — it cost my father a matter of two or 
three pounds, one way and another. Well, the answer 
was as the Hecate sailed from Portsmouth on such a 
£ 2 


52 


A (iUEER RACE. 


(late in 1743, revictunlled at Nassau, and touch e^d at 
Jamaica ; but as after that nothing* more had been lu'iud 
of her, she must undoubtedly have perished with all 
on board. Now, doesn^t it stand to reason that as 
nothing has been heard of the Hecatey none of tlie cr(*\v 
— and all of ’em went on board the Santa Annay you 
know — that none of her crew ever got to land ? — because' 
the first thing theykl naturally do would be to inform 
the Admiralty and claim their pay. As for the officers, 
they would of course report themselves, and tell how 
the Hecate was lost.^^ 

'^Of course; and the fact that nothing has been heard 
of her or any of her crew shows, in my opinion, that the 
fate which the Admiralty think overtook the Hecate 
overtook the Santa Anna — she perished with all on 
board, perhaps in a cyclone; or she may have struck on 
a sunken rock or got burnt. Your supposition, Bolsover, 
that every man-jack of her crew died of thirst, and that 
she is either afloat ’or aground with all her treasure on 
board is — excuse me for saying it — all bosh; and the 
sooner you get the idea out of your head, the better it 
will be for your peace of mind.” 

“ I am sorry to hear you say so, Mr. Erie,” answered 
the boatswain, with the air of a man who, though shaken 
in his opinion, refuses to be convinced. I am sorry to 
hear you say so. I cannot argufy like a man of ■’ead and 
edycation, and facts is, maybe, against me. Well, I 
don^t care a hang for the facts ; and I am as cock-sure 
as if I saw her this minute as the galleon is a ship yet. 


OF THE SAME OFiNiON STILL. 


53 


or leastways the hull of one, and as I shall set eyes on 
her afore I die, and carry off as much of that there 
treasure as will make me as rich as a Jew. If you 
won^t go shares with me, so much the worse for you — 
that is all as I can say.^^ 

Though I saw that it was useless to continue the 
discussion, I wanted to put one more question. 

Did your father say anything to the Admiralty 
about the chaplain^s statement ? I asked. 

^'No, he didn^t,’"^ answered Tom, almost savagely; 

He wasnH such a darned fool. He had too much 
white in his eye, my father had, to put the Admiralty 
on the track of that there treasure-ship ; and as it was 
nigh on a hundred years after she disappeared, it would 
have done no manner of good to anybody.^^ 

The subject then dropped, and it was not resumed 
until several rather strange things had come to pass, 
and Bolsover was in a more placable mood. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE FEVER SHIP. 

We were now on the verge of the tropics. The weather 
was perfect, the wind fair, and the sea — covered with 
small, white-crested waves, chasing each other in wild 
revelry — superb. The days were delightful ; the nights, 
lighted up by a great round moon, gloriously serene. 

The mere fact of living became a pleasui*e ; the noon- 
day^s heat was tempered by a balmy breeze, and basking 
in the sun, and living continually in the open air (I 
slept on deck), health tingled to rny liiigeiV ends. 

It was a pleasure to feel the brave shi]) surging 
through the sea, and to watch her great sails as they 
l>ellied to the breeze. For days together no sailor had 
need to go aloft, and one day was so like another that 
lime seemed to stand still. Yet in this very monotony 
there was an inexplicable charm ; it acted as a spiritual 
anodyne, banishing care, and lulling the mind to sleep. 
T ceased to think about my future, and Liverpool and 
Inisiness were so remote tliat they might never have 
been. Even Amy receded into the far distance, and it 
was hard to realise that I had once dreamt of marriage 
and suffered from the pangs of disappointed love. 

Why, I often asked myself, had I not been brought 
up as a soldier or sailor instead of an underwriter? 


THE FEVER SHIP. 


55 


And I wondered how people could dislike the sea. True, 
there were sometimes storms, and the weather was not 
always serene ; but, after all, storms were few and far 
between, and I felt sure that the hardships and perils of 
a seaman^s life were grossly exaggerated. Only just 
before I left Liverpool, I met a man who had crossed 
the Atlantic half a dozen times without so much as 
encountering a gale of wind j and it was a notorious fact 
that A1 hardwood ships, well commanded and manned, 
and not too deep in the water, seldom came to grief. 

I one day talked in this strain to Captain Peyton. J 
said that I doubted whether a man was in greater 
danger on board a good ship than inside a good house, 
and that life on the ocean wave was far pleasanter than 
life ashore. 

I don^t mean, of course, on board a war-ship in 
t ime of war,^^ I added, remembering the experience of 
poor Mr. Hare. 

You think so because we have had such a pleasant 
voyage and made such good weather, so far,^^ retmned 
t lie skipper, with a smile, and I am bound to say that, 
sailing in these latitudes is pleasant. You would think 
differently, though, if you had ever faced a stiff gale in 
the North Atlantic, or tried to double Cape Horn in a 
snowstorm. And I don’t agree with you about there 
being no more danger at sea than ashore. A landsman 
may live a long life without being once exposed to 
serious peril. A seaman can hardly make one long 
voyage without running serious risks. Not to speak of 


A qUEER RACE. 


5 « 

storms and cyclones^ sunken rocks and unlighted shores^ 
never a night passes that does not bring the possibility 
of a collision. The unexpected plays a far more im- 
portant part at sea than ashore ; so much so, that a 
prosperous, pleasant voyage always makes me a bit 
uneasy 

** Like this, for instance ? ** 

Exactly. Like this. I cannot help thinking it is 
too good to last, and that Fortune is preparing us some 
scurvy trick. Who can tell? We maybe run down 
in the night, or have foul weather before morning. All 
the same, I like my calling. Its very uncertainty is an 
attraction ; a true seaman likes it none the less for its 
element of danger ; and I don^t know that I dislike an 
occasional storm. There is real pleasure in command- 
ing a stout, well-found, well -manned ship in a gale of 
wind.'^ 

can well believe it — for a born sailor like you. 
You are of an adventurous disposition, I think. Captain 
Peyton." 

“ I was once. But I am too old now to seek ad- 
ventures j they must seek me." 

'^Well, I begin to think I should like a few ad- 
ventures. My life has been desperately tame so far.” 

Has not somebody said that adventures are to the 
adventurous ? You will, may be, have a bellyful before 
you get back to Liverpool. Who knows ? " 

Ay, who knows ? I hope they will be agreeable, 
though." 


THE FEVER SHIP. 


57 


** I don’t think I could undertake to guarantee that/’ 
'said the ski pper_, with a laugh. Adventures are like 
babies — you must take them as they come. Step into 
my cabin and let us have a game of chess and a glass of 
grog. Everything is going on smoothly, and it is the 
first officer’s watch.” 

I have already mentioned how we amused ourselves, 
and that as there was always something going on we 
never suffered from erinui. We had excitement, too, of 
a very mild sort, though often rather intense while it 
lasted : nothing more than exchanging numbers with 
passing ships, and so ascertaining their names — when 
they came near enough, which was not always. In 
point of fact, we had only exchanged numbers with 
four ships since we sailed ; we had, however, passed a 
good many in the early part of our voyage, and when a 
vessel was sighted, it was always a matter of speculation 
and discussion whether she would come within signalling 
distance or not. The further we got, however, tlie rarer 
these meetings became, and for several days past we had 
not seen a single sail. 

So, when, on the morning after my talk with Captain 
Peyton, one of the mates (a man with wonderfully good 
eyes), sweeping the horizon with his glass, announced 
that he could just see the topmast of some ship away to 
windward, there was quite a flutter of excitement. We 
passengers had our binoculars out in a moment, though, 
as our eyes were not quite so keen as those of the second 
mate, it was some time before we could make out, in 


o8 


A QUEER RACE. 


the far distance, a couple of sticks that seemed to be 
emerging from the water, which Bucklow (the mate), a 
few minutes later, declared to be the masts of a brig. 

We went on staring our hardest, and in the end 
were rewarded by seeing the hull of a large ship rise 
slowly from the bosom of the deep." 

A brig under bare poles ! exclaimed Captain 
Peyton, who was one of the gazers. No ; she has 
her fore-course and fore-topmast-staysail set. But what 
on earth is she doing, and where steering ? " 

I had been asking myself the same questions, for the 
brig^s movements were most eccentric ; she wobbled 
about in every direction, as if she could not make up 
her mind towards which point of the compass she wanted 
to sad. 

''Are the people aboard of her all asleep, I won- 
der ? asked the captain. " Run up our number, Mr. 
Chance" (the third mate). "We shall maybe pass 
near enough to exchange signals." 

" Hallo I " shouted Bucklow, the sharp-eyed. " There 
is something wrong yonder." 

"What is it?" asked everybody else, pointing his 
glass in the same direction as that of the mate. 

'‘The Union Jack upside-down," 

" A signal of distress ! And she does not give her 
number," said the skipper. " Something very wrong, 
I should say. Alter the ship^s course a point, Mr. 
Bucklow. We will run under her bows and hail her." 

When we were near enough, the captain took his 


THE FEVER SHIP. 


59 


Speaking-trumpet and hailed. But there came no 
answer. We could see nobody on deck ; there was not 
even a man at the wheel. 

Queer I said Captain Peyton, after he had hailed 
a second and third time. I must go aboard and see 
what is up. Clear away the lee-quarter boat, Mr. 
Chance. Will you go with me, Mr. Erie?” turning 
to me. *^Who knows that this is not the beginning of 
an adventure ? 

''It is an ^ adventure,^' I answered. "Thanks fur 
the offer. I will go with you gladly.'^ 

So the sails were backed, the ship brought to^ and 
the boat being lowered, we slipped into her and were 
quickly alongside the brig. As another hail produced 
no effect, one of the four seamen who were with us 
climbed up the fore-chains and threw us a rope, up 
which Peyton, myself, and two of the seamen swarmed, 
one after the other, hand over hand. 

" Anybody on board. Bill ? asked the captain, as 
he put his foot on the deck. 

" Not as far as I can see,” said the seaman who had 
thrown us the rope. "But there^s some very queer 
smells knocking about.” 

" Let us take a turn round the deck, and then we 
wull go below. It looks as if the crew had deserted her. 
Why, I wonder ? She seems all right and tight ; and 
if her rigging is all sixes and sevens, thaPs easily 

accounted Hallo ! What's that in the lee-scuppers, 

abaft the mainmast, there ? ” 


60 


A qUEEB RACE. 


** It looks like a bundle of old clothes/^ said Bill. 

It’s a man^s body. Turn it rounds Bill.^^ 

Bill lifted the body up and propped it in a sitting 
{)osture against the bulwark. 

All gave back with exclamations of dismay. It was 
the most revolting sight I had ever set eyes upon. The 
face was putrid, swollen, and almost black. One eye 
was wide open; the other, together with a part of 
the cheek, had been eaten away. One of the poor 
wretches arms having been stretched out as he fell, 
had stiffened as he died, and now pointed its yellow 
and almost fleshless fingers at Captain Peyton. 

God bless me ! he exclaimed, in an awe-struck 

voice. I do believe iPs a fever ship ! 

You surely don't mean that all the crew have died 
of fever ? " 

I am afraid so ; but we will soon see." 

There were two houses on deck, one of them being 
evidently the master's quarters. Peyton opened the door 
and peered in fearfully. I looked over his shoulder. In 
the bunk lay a blackened corpse ; a troop of hideous rats 
gnawing at the face. On the floor were another corpse 
and more rats. 

The captain drew back with a shudder, and closed 
the door. 

** Yes," he said, they are all dead, sure enough. I 
wonder where she hails from and what her car^ro is ? If 
I could only get a look at the manifest, or the log-book ! 
I dare say they are in the poor skipper's cabin, and I am 


THte FEVER SHIF. 


not g“oing there again. We will just have a peep at the 
hold, though. No harm in that.^^ 

As he spoke, he slipped down the hatchway, and in 
five minutes came back with the news that she was 
timber laden. 

Does anybody know her name ? ** he asked. 

Yes,^^ says Bill ; it is on the binnacle and the 
w'heel — Lady Janed^ 

I know her,^^ I said, drawing on my recollection of 
Lloyd^s Register. She belongs to Hart and Coverdale. 
of Liverpool — master, Williamson ; built at Nova Scotia 
about ten years ago, if I remember rightly. I think we 
once insured her for a voyage to Honduras andback.^^ 
That^s it ; I thought so. She hails from Belize — 
that is where they got the fever, no doubt — and her cargo 
consists of mahogany and logwood. A valuable cargo 
that, Mr. Erie. What do you think she is worth, now 
— ship, cargo, and everything ; lock, stock, barrel, and 
clinker ? 

Speaking roughly, I should say from fifteen to 
twenty thousand pounds.'^ 

And she^s a derelict. Nearly all that money would 
go to the owners, with a thumping share to the officers 
and crew ; and I am part owner.^^ 

If you take her into port 

And that is what I mean to do. One way and 
another, it would bring me a few thousands — anyhow, 
enough, with what I have, to make me independent for 
life, and be a nice provision for the wife and children 


62 


A QUEEU RACE. 


wli(‘u 1 die. Yes; I will take Ladi^ Jane into port*— if 
1 can.^^ 

^^Butj surely, Captain Peyton, you will not put any 
of your crew on board ? Why, she is a regular pesthnuse; 
and the sooner I am ofi‘ her the better T shall be please<l/' 
^^Only a coujde of volunteers to take the wheel, turn 
and turn about. But once here they must stay here. 
There will be no communication u^hatever between the 
two ships, no more than if they were a hundred miles 
apart. The two men who volunteer shall bring their 
own water and provisions, so that the risk they run will 
be of the very slightest/^ 

Do you think {inybody will volunteer 
You will see when we get back. Y<‘s, I shall take 
Lad^ Jane in tow, and if the weather holds good, I will 
have her at Nassau in ten days, or less.” 

And if the weather does not hold go<)d ?” 

‘‘Then we shall have to cast her olf.^’ 

“ And you really do not think that in all this there is 
any risk ? ” 

“ For the two men who come aboard there may be 
some slight risk of infection ; but for us, none whatever. 
The fever cannot fly over the water or creep along the 
hawsers. Besides, I never knew one ship take yellow 
fever from another. It is a land disorder, and ships 
bring it with them from places where it is epidemic. 
They never get it at sea.” 

“Ycu think it is yellow fever, then?^^ 

“ Of course ; what else can it be ? I saw it at once 


tHE FEVER SHIP. 




when Bill turned that poor devil over. He must have 
died on deck and rolled into the scupper. And now, if 
you please, we will return to the Biana/* 

I said no more, yet I could not help feeling that 
Captain Peyton was making a mistake which might 
cost us dear. He was letting greed obscure his usually 
clear judgment. The moment he had ascertained 
the Ladi/ Jane\^ character, he should have got out 
of her way as quickly as possible. The idea of having 
a pest-ship trailing after us for ten days — more likely 
fourteen — was to me simply horrible. I did not 
forget that 1 was supposed to be proof against yellow 
fever ; yet the fact, if fact it were, gave me no comfort, 
and 1 returned to the Diana full of uneasy thoughts and 
gloomy forebodings. 

The unexpected was happening with a vengeance I 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE FIRST VICTIM. 

As soon as we were on lioard the Diana the captain 
oave every man who had been with him a glass of grog, 
and after taking one himself, sprinkled us all with 
carbolic acid and water, and ordered Bill Bailey (the 
(juartermaster, who liad handled the corpse) to change 
]\is clothes, and disinfect those he had worn by damping 
them with a similar mixture, and hanging them up in 
the sun until they were dry. 

This done, Peyton called the crew together and made 
them a little speech. He said that the Lady Jane 
carried a very valuable cargo, and that if we towed her 
into port the salvage would produce something very 
handsome, of which every seaman on board would be 
entitled to a share. With proper precautions, he did 
not think there was any risk worth mentioning, and he 
reckoned that tliey could easily reach Nassau in ten days. 
There was, however, one difficulty. If the Lady Jane 
was taken in tow, somebody would have to go on board 
to steer her. Two hands would be enough. They could 
take the wheel turn and turn about. There was no 
denying that they would run a certain amount of risk ; 
but if the}^ took their own water and provisions, and 
slept on deck, he felt sure they would be quite safe. 


THE FIRST VICTIM. 


65 


There was no antidote for infection like sea air. At the 
same time he would use neither compulsion nor per- 
suasion. If anybody chose to volunteer, that would be 
another matter ; and the two who did so should receive, 
over and above their share of the salvage, fifty pounds 
apiece. Were any of them disposed to volunteer on 
these conditions ? 

The question was answered by a shout, and at least 
two-thirds of the crew volunteered on the spot. 

^'Didn't I tell you?^^ said Peyton, turning to me 
with a smile. — All right, lads ! But I only want two ; 
cannot spare more, and two will be quite enough. We 
must draw lots. — Mr. Bucklow, write down the name of 
every man who is willing to undertake the job on a slip 
of paper, put the slips into a hat, and then Mr. Erie will 
perhaps oblige us by drawing two at random, and the 
names on them will be those of the two lucky ones.^^ 

Lucky ones, indeed ! 

The names were written. I drew two slips, and 
announced, amid the breathless attention of the crew, 
that the winners were Harry Smithers and Jack 
McKean. Both threw up their caps with delight ; the 
others looked bitterly disappointed, and the curses they 
vented on their ill-luck were loud and deep. 

After this a couple of ha\^sers were passed from the 
stern of the Diana to the bows of the Lady Ja7ie ; the 
forlorn hope (very forlorn, I feared), amply provided with 
water and provisions, went on board the derelict, and 
the fever ship was taken in tow, 

W 


66 


A QUEER RACE. 


I have already mentioned that thi, Diana had an 
auxiliary screw. It was, however, very small, and 
seldom used — only, in fact, when there was a dead calm 
or exceptionally bad weather. So far, it had not been 
used at all, and our coal supply being unusually low 
(owing to our carrying a full cargo of merchandise), 
Peyton would probably not have put the Diana under 
steam at all had we not fallen in with the fever ship. 
But as it is extremely difficult for a vessel under sad to 
tow another, he ordered the screw to be slipped and 
steam to be got up. It was, however, quite evident thal 
our progress in any circumstances would be slow, and 
that if a gale of wind sprang up we should have to 
abandon our prize. Nobody knew this better than 
Peyton. 

What will you do with the Lady Jane when you 
get her to Nassau ? 1 asked him. 

Batten down the hatches and fumigate her with 
sulphui’; then put a crew aboard, bend fresh sails to 
her, and send her home under charge of Mr. Bucklow. 
If there should be any fever-germs left — and I don't 
believe there will be — the cold will soon kill them." 

Had I been unduly alarmed, after all ? There was 
no communication between the two ships; it was hardly 
possible for the infection to fly across the streak of 
water that separated them ; and yellow fever being 
generally confined to certain localities, the sea must 
necessarily be unfavourable to its development. 

When two days passed and nobody seemed any 


THE FIRST VICTIM. 


@7 


tbe worse — not even Bill Bailey^ who had handled the 
dead body— rl began to think that T had been unduly 
alarmed ; my spirits revived, and albeit none of us 
passengers (nor probably any of the crew) particularly 
liked the proximity of the fever ship, we soon ceased to 
trouble about her, and our lives went on as usual. 

In the meanwhile, the wind had fallen, and though 
every stitch of canvas was spiead, we could not mak(^ 
more than four knots an hour, even with the help of our 
tiny screw, much to Peyton^s annoyance. 

At this rate,^^ he said, we shall not reach the 
Bermudas for two or three weeks. However, it might 
be worse. If it had come on to blow, we should have 
had to cast the Lady Jane off ; and if we were quite 
becalmed we should soon be without coal. I wish 
Nassau was a few hundred miles nearer. It is a good 
stretch out of our way.^^ 

The responsibility he had incurred by deviating from 
his course was evidently preying on his mind. If all 
went smoothly, if he got safely to Nassau and disposed 
of the Lady Jane to advantage, or sent her home, 
good and well — his co-owners would be more than 
satisfied, and praise his enterprise and pluck, and he 
would put money in their pocket and his own. But if, 
after prolonging his voyage two or three weeks, he had 
to abandon his prize, they would probably have some- 
thing to say that he might not quite like. 

So far as I was personally concerned, I had no 
objection in the world to make a call at the Bermudas, 
F % 


68 


A qUEER RACE. 


Not knowing’ when — if ever — I should be able to make 
another long voyage^ I wanted to see all I could. 

One of my greiitest pleasures was an early walk 
round the Diana’s deck. There being none of the 
fair sex on board, we had no need to study propriety ; 
and 1 generally rose with the sun, slipped on a pair of 
pyjamas, and paddled about the deck with naked feet. 
As often as not I appeared even without the pyjamas, 
and jumping overboard at the bows, swam to the stern 
and climbed up the ship’s side by a rope. 

Rather a ticklish operation ; for if you don’t seize 
the rope at the right moment you may be left behind, 
and swimming after a ship under sail is by no means 
easy, and may be dangerous. Before she could be 
brought to and a boat lowered, you might easily be 
drowned or gobbled up by a shark. 

Captain Peyton several times warned me of the risk 
1 ran by this proceeding. 

You will be missing your tip one of these days,” 
he said, and then look out ! If the shij) has much 
way on her, it may be half an hour or more before you 
get help.” 

But as I never had missed my tip, I thought I never 
should ; and with practice the feat became so easy that 
1 grew confident and careless, although I did not end, 
as Peyton said I should, by missing my tip.” 

One morning, shortly after we had discovered the 
Lad^ Jane, I rose, if any tiding, a little earlier than 
usual, was on .deck just as the sun began to rise, 


'ftiE FIRST VICTIM. 


69 


finid diving over the bows as usual, struck out leisurely 
for the stern, whieh, as the ship and myself were 
moving in opposite directions, I reached in a few 
seconds. Raising my head, I prepared to make a dash 
at the rope. 

It was not there ! I had forgotten to order one to 
be thrown out, and I was not sure that anybody had 
seen me go into the water. I shouted to the man 
at the wheel, but he did not hear, and the next 
moment the ship had forged ahead. There was nothing 
for it but to climb up the bows of the Lady Jane, 
Better risk taking the fever than be drowned. 

She was rather low in the water, or I do not think 
I should have managed it, and I was greatly helped 
by the loose end of a bolt-rope which hung down 
from the bowsprit. As I struggled up, knocking 
myself about a good deal in the effort, I happened to 
cast an eye on the hawser nearest to me, and fancied 
I saw something black moving along it towards the 
Liana. 

What on earth V* I could not spare a hand 

to rub my eyes, so I shut and opened them by way of 
squeezing out the water, and looked again. 

There could be no mistake about it. The black 
thing was a rat, and it was followed by a lot more rats. 
They were running along the rope in regular procession 
— scores of them — and when I got over the bulwark 1 
found ever so many more, waiting for their turns. 
When the hideous things saw me they ran awa) 


to 


A QUEER RACE. 


squeaking. I shuddered, for I knew what they had 
been feeding on ; but my mind was just then too much 
occupied with my own concerns to take in the full 
significance of the incident. I felt rather foolish, 
standing stark naked in the bows of the Lady JanSf 
and did not want to add to the absurdity of my posi- 
tion by hailing the Diana and asking for a boat. 
Why should I not imitate the rats, and use one of the 
hawsers as a bridge ? 

No sooner thought than done. I am a pretty fair 
gymnast, and seizing the hawser with both hands, and 
letting myself down, I moved them alternately forward 
until I reached my destination. It was still grey dawn ; 
nobody had seen me, and I crept unperceived over the 
taffrail. Bill Bailey was at the wheel, and Bucklow, 
the second mate, and Tom Bolsover were near the 
binnacle, deep in conversation. 

Good-moming ! " I said, in a hollow voice, for I 
was breathless from exertion. 

Lord help us! One of them chaps from the Lady 
Janel^^ shouted Bailey, and without more ado left 
the wheel to itself, and ran forward as fast as if our 
ghostly foe had been at his heels. His exclamation and 
my appearance so scared Bolsover, that he jumped 
round, slipped on the wet deck (it had just been washed), 
and clutching at the mate in a frantic effort to save him- 
self, both went down together, and the ship broaching 
to at the same moment, they rolled, one over the other, 
into the scupper. 


tHt) FIRST VICTIM. 


71 


''It is only me — nothing to be alarmed about. Just 
come aboard/^ I said, bursting with laughter, as I ran 
below to dry and dress myself. 

When I looked into my glass and surveyed my body, 
I w^as not surprised at the scare I had caused. My 
hands and legs were covered with tar from the bows of 
the Ladi/ Jane; some of the stuff had got on my 
face, and as my long and rather red hair was matted on 
my forehead and hung over my eyes, and my skin was 
very white, I looked decidedly queer and slightly 
diabolical, if not very ghostlike. 

So soon as I had made myself presentable I went on 
deck. There had been a great to-do. When the ship 
""broached to, the captain came out of his. cabin in great 
wrath, and wanted to know what — the something or 
another — was up. Bucklow was excessively riled at 
being rolled into the scupper, and called the boatswain 
a darnation old woman, to Tom^s great disgust; and 
Bill Bailey received a severe reprimand for deserting 
his post and letting the ship broach to. 

"I thought it was one of them chaps from the 
Lady Jane come to life, or may be 'Yellow Jack^ him- 
self,^^ pleaded the quartermaster. 

" And if it had been, that was no reason for letting 
the ship broach to,^^ said the captain, severely; but 
when his momentary fit of anger was over, he laughed 
as heartily as the others ; and for the rest of the day all 
were enjoying the joke, and talking about the appari« 
tion of "Yellow Jack.^^ 


7^ A QUEEH tlACi!!. 

Ah, me ! It was the last bit of fun we had on board 
the Diana. 

In talking the affair over with Peyton, I mentioned 
the portentous sight I had just seen. He seemed much 
disquieted. 

Rats ! he exclaimed. Rats running along the 
hawsers ? Are you quite sure ? ** 

Quite ; and the procession continued until I got 
on board and disturbed them,'’"^ 

This may have been going on all night,'’ he said, 
uneasily. It must be stopped. I want nothing from 
the Lady Jane on board this ship, least of all rats." 

No wonder he felt uneasy. The rats I saw had been 
living for days on the bodies — now thrown overboard — 
which we had seen on the Lady Jane's deck, and now 
they were amongst us, running round the ship, nibbling 
at our food, scampering over the water-casks. If it were 
possible to convey the infection, they would surely 
convey it — had, perhaps, conveyed it already. 

The captain asked me to keep what I had seen 
to myself-^he Feared it might alarm the crew — and the 
carpenter received orders to fix on each of the hawsers a 
round board, studded with nails, to prevent an invasion 
of rats from the Jjady Jane. 

** I have heard of rats running along ropes before 
now," he said to the carpenter, and it is just as well 
to be on the safe side." 

I made no further remark, but I much feared that it 
would prove another case of shutting the stable door 


ttiE ElUSt VICTliU. 


;!5 

when the steed was stolen. My worst forebodings re- 
vived, and I turned in that night with a heavy heart. 
After lying awake several hours, I sank into a dream- 
haunted sleep. My dreams were all about rats. I saw 
the procession over again ; saw the little black demons 
crawl along the hawser and sweep in thousands over the 
deck ; saw the watch fighting with them ; and Peyton, 
coming out of his cabin to see what was the matter, the 
creatures fell fiercely upon him, and in a few minutes 
there was nothing left but a skeleton. 

When I awoke the sun was shining, and a huge rat 
sat on the side of my bunk. For a moment I thought 
that I still dreamt, but as I moved and stirred the bed- 
clothes it jumped on the floor with a squeak and scurried 
out of my sight. 

The first rat I had seen on board the Biana^ and no 
doubt one of the horde from the fever ship. As likely as 
not, it had been playing about my bunk and running 
over my bed all night. 

My fellow-passengers were all early risers, though 
not quite so early as myself, and I found them at 
breakfast, Peyton, as usual, at the head of the table. 

Hello ! cried Bulnois, the young fellow who was 
voyaging in search of health. I hope you are not out 
of sorts. I never knew you late for breakfast before. 
You are not an early bird this morning, and if you had 
been you would not have picked up a worm. No worms 
on board the Diana ^ only rats and apparitions of 
Yellow Jack^ — ha, ha I 


u 


A QUEfiR RACE. 


Rats ! rats ! What do you mean, Bulnois 
‘‘ You have not seen any, then ! We have — lots— 
except the captain here; he has not.^^ 

I glanced at Peyton, and felt sure, from his uneasy, 
anxious look, that, despite his denial, he, too, had been 
visited by one or more of our unwelcome guests. 

I saw one as I turned in last nighV'* went on 
Bulnois, and there were two whoppers on the floor 
this morning ; and Robinson found one in his shoe, did 
not you, Robinson ? 

Rather 1 And it gave me a scan*, too. I was 
putting on my boot when I felt something soft ; but it 
bit hard, I can tell you.''’ 

“ Got hold, did it?^' I said, with assumed careless- 
ness. 

Rather 1 Stuck its sharp teeth into my big toe. 
But I had my revenge. I kicked the beggar off, and 
then knocked it on the head with my other boot. 
Where do they all come from. Captain Peyton? There 
did not use to be any on board; you said so your- 
self.^' 

1 did not think there were; but rats are very 
unaccountable creatures. You can never tell. Two or 
three pairs may have come aboard at Liverpool, and 
been increasing and multiplying down in the hold. Yon 
have no idea how fast they breed. 

Gad ! if two or three pairs have increased into two 
or three hundred since, we left Liverpool, they do breed 
fast, and no mistake,^' returned Bulnois, dryly. 


THE FIRST VICTIM. t6 

“Two or three hundred ! Nonsense I I don’t be- 
lieve there are two or three dozens.” 

“ Aren’t there, though ! Why, they are all over the 
ship ; and if some are so bold as to come into our bunks 
and crawl into our boots, just think how many must 
there be down in the hold. I hope they won’t eat 
through the sides and sink us, that’s all.” 

At this point Peyton (whom the conversation 
evidently annoyed) remembered that his presence was 
required on deck, and left us to ourselves, on which we 
had a long talk and many stories about rats ; but I made 
no mention of the strange sight I had seen on the 
occasion of my late involuntary visit to the Lady 
Jane. 

The captain afterwards told me “on the quiet” that 
(as I suspected) he had seen several rats in his cabin, 
only it would not do for him to admit the fact. 

“ We must just make the best of it,” he said; “ no 
use crying over spilt milk, you know. If we were to 
cast off the Lady Jane we could not get rid of the rats ; 
and it may be a false alarm, after all. I really don’t 
see what harm they can do.” 

But this was all make-believe — whistling to keep his 
courage up. I knew that in his heart Peyton thought 
just as I did, and feared the worst. 

When I went on deck next morning I missed Bill 
Bailey, and asked Bucklow what had become of him. 

“ On the sick-list.” 

What is the matter ? ” 


76 


1 qiKEii eace. 

1 don’t know ; but I believe be is very sick. The 
captain has seen him; he will tell you.'’^ 

We had no surgeon on board, and the captain, in 
addition to his other functions, acted as doctor. When 
I saw him, I asked what was wrong with Bailey — if it 
was anything serious. 

Very serious/^ was the answer. 

It surely is not 

'' I am sorry to say it is.^' 

But is it not possible you may be mistaken ? Are 
you certain that your diagnosis is correct?’'’ 

Do I know a case of yellow fever when I see it, 
you mean ? I ought. When I was second officer of the 
Neva, one of the Royal Mail steamers, you know, we 
once had seventy deaths from yellow fever within a 
week of leaving St. Thomas’s. Yes, Bailey has got it; 
and I fear it will go hard with him, poor fellow I ” 

It did go hard with him. Forty-eight hours later 
the quartermaster’s body was stitched up in his ham- 
mock and committed to the deep, and at the captain’s 
request I read the funeral service over the poor fellow’s 
watery grave. 

'^The first victim,” I thought. '^Who will be the 
next ?” 


CHAPTER IX. 


YELLOW JACK. 

liiKE a good many other men, Peyton did not like to 
own, even to himself, that he had made a mistake ; and 
:is I could well see, he was continually casting about in 
his iniud for reasons that might justify him for taking 
the Lady Jane in tow, in forgetfulness of the French 
saying, Qni s*ea'cuse, s* accuse. His very anxiety to 
clear himself from charges which, as yet, nobody had 
made, showed that he was conscious of having com- 
mitted a grievous error. 

am very sorry about poor Bailey,'^ he said. 
** Yet, after all, it is no more than was to be expected.''^ 

I don^t quite see 

Don^t you remember him handling that body on 
the Lady Jane ? It must have been then he caught the 
fever.^^ 

But that is two days since. He was thoroughly 
disinfected; and if he had caught the fever then it 
would have shown itself much sooner. I have always 
understood that yellow fever is exceedingly rapid in its 
action. 

Generally ; but there are exceptions. He muet 
have caught it that time on the Lady Jane; and 


7S 


A QUKKK KACE. 


would have died just the same whether we had tahen 
the ship in tow or not. How else could he have 
caught it?^^ 

'^The rats. Bolsover tells me that they actually 
swarm about the water-casks ; and you know what that 
means.'^ 

Curse the rats ! Peyton exc]a:imed, passionately. 

It^s rats, rats, all day long. 1 think you have all got 
rats on the brain. Are you quite sure, now, you did see 
them coming across the hawsers ? ■ 

'' Quite. Besides, if they are not from the Lady 
Jane, how did they get on board ? ” 

Anyhow, it is not the rats that gave poor Bailey 
the fever; he got it in the Lady Jane, and nobody can 
blame me for that. Who could tell beforehand that 
she was a fever ship ? 

To this query I made no answer. I knew what he ] 

was driving at. In the event of the fever spreading, ; 

he wanted to make out that it had been brought on ' 

board by Bailey; that the rats had nothing to do with -j 

it. I felt annoyed that he should thus try to wriggle ] 

out of the responsibility he had incurred by taking the j 

Lady Jane in tow, and only the fact of my being his \ 
gudst prevented me from saying so. If he had been I 
less obstinate, he would have cast her off at once, for • j 
besides taking us out of our course, she was greatly 
impeding our progress ; and with fever on board our own 
vessel, and a fever ship in tow, no port in that part of 
the world would receive us : what he would do with 


YELT.OW JACK. 


7‘.) 

the Lady Jane in such circuinslaiices as these was a 
mystery. 

Bailey^s death naturally caused great alarm, both 
among the passengers and crew. The captain tried to 
persuade them that it was merely an isolated case, ami 
that he had adopted such precautions as would prevent 
the pest from spreading. I don’t think, though, that 
anybody believed him. 1 know I did not. The rats, I 
felt sure, would infect the whole ship, and it was quite 
possible that the fate of the Lady Jane's crew would be 
ours — and mine — ^for the more imminent grew the danger 
the less confident I felt in my supposed immunity. 

We dined at half-past five on board the Diana. 
The party generally consisted of the seven passengers, 
the captain (who presided), and sometimes the first or 
second officer. The bell rang fifteen minutes before the 
time, and again at the half-hour, when, as a rule, we 
were all in our places, except Bulnois, who was in the 
habit of unduly prolonging his afternoon nap, and about 
every other day had to be wakened up by a special 
messenger. 

This happened on the day Bailey was buried, and 
the conversation with the captain which I have just 
described took place. 

Where is Mr. Bulnois asked Peyton, when we 
were all seated. '^Asleep, as usual, I suppose. Steward, 
send a boy to rouse him up, and say that dinner is on 
the table.^^ 

Just as we were beginning with our soup, the bo)' 


80 


A QUEER RACE. 


(‘lime ])ao1v to say that Mr. Bulnois was very ill — had aba^ 
headache, was very sick, and could not come to dinner. 

We all looked at each other. My companions turned 
pale, and I have no doubt I did ; for the same thought 
passed through every mind — Bulnois had got yellow 
fever. It was like the handwriting on the wall at 
Belshazzar\s feast. The foe was inside the citadel, and 
each of us was mentally asking himself whose turn it 
would be next. 

The captain was the first to break silence. 

triHing indisposition, I expect, he said, with 
an affected nonchalance which matched ill with his 
anxious face. ^'Bulnois is subject to headaches, I think. 
I will go and see him presently, and give him some- 
thing that will do him good. Very likely an attack of 
indigestion.^^ 

The captain looked round as if to invite an expres- 
sion of opinion in accordance with his own ; but nobody 
answered a word, and the dinner was finished hurriedly, 
and in deep, almost solemn silence. But when Peyton 
left us to see poor Bulnois, every tongue was loosened. 

He is amongst us now, and no mistake,^^ said 
Robinson. 

Who?'' 

Yellow Jack. You must have brought him when 
you went aboard the Lady Jane the other day, Erie." 

That is impossible. I was not there two minutes, 
and I came back as naked as I went. Besides, if I had 
brought it, I should have been the first victim." 


YELLOW jack. 


81 


''Well, how is it, then? I can understand that 
quartermaster getting it. But Bulnois never went 
near him, and at luncheon he seemed quite well, and ate 
with good appetite.^' 

" 1^11 tell you what it is,^' put in Saunders, the bank 
clerk, a quiet, observant little fellow. "It^s those 
rats.^^ 

" Rats ! What the deuce have rats to do with it ?** 

"Everything. I can see it all now. There was not 
a rat on board before Tuesday. I have inquired among 
the men, and I cannot find anybody who saw a single 
specimen until Wednesday, and now they simply swarm ; 
and was it not on Wednesday morning that the captain 
had those guards put on the hawsers to prevent rats 
running over them from the Lad^ Jane? Depend 
upon it, he knows, only it does not suit his purpose to 
say so. Have not you noticed how he fires up when 
anything is said about rats ? 

" By Jove, I do believe you are right ! And it all 
comes of taking that cursed fever ship in tow. Peyton 
deserves to be thrown overboard. 

" No, no/'' I said ; " Peyton is one of the best fellows 
in the world. He acted for the best, and took every 
precaution. Who could foresee tba|- rats would come 
aboard by a hawser 

He had no business to run the risk — a risk that 
involved others as well as himself — of taking a fever 
ship in tow ; and what makes it worse, he did it for his 
own profit. We have no interest in the salvage.^' 

G 


82 


A QUEER RACE. 


After this I thoug'ht it discreet to let the subject 
dro]), fur in truth ray friend's conduct was almost, if not 
altogether, indefensible. 

Never mind about the captain," interposed some- 
)>ody. What are we to do? that is the question.” 

^^What can we do but grin and abide?" I answered. 

There is no possibility of* running away." 

“ But cannot we take something — brandy or quin- 
ine; or do something with carbolic acid?" 

" Carbolic acid is merely a disinfectant ; it is being 
used all over the ship already ; brandy, 1 should think, 
is about the worst thing you could take, and quinine 
about the best. A manual of medicine I was looking 
at yesterday, in the captain's cabin, recommends strong 
doses of quinine as a prophylactic." 

“ Let us have some ! " — Where can we get it ? " 
— “ Has the captain any ? " — “ How much should we 
take ? " shouted the five passengers. 

1 said that 1 believed the captain had some; and 
when he returned from seeking Bulnois they asked him 
for quinine even before they inquired after their sick 
friend. 

He had some, though not very much, and gave each 
man a small dose forthwith. 

Bulnois was very ill; Peyton could not deny that 
his symptoms were those of yellow fever ; and if he had 
denied it I should have known that he was wrong, for I 
had been reading the subject up. I had seen Bailey, 
and the moment I saw poor Bulnois (none of the other 


V 


YLLLOW JA.CK. 83 

billows would go near him) I recognised all the signs of 
the dread disease in its incipient stage — the shivering, 
the hot skin, the sulfused eyeballs, the drunk-like aspect 
of the eyes, and the flushed zone that encircled them. 

Poor fellow ! we could do nothing for him ; I doubt 
whetlier the ablest physician in England could have 
done anything for him. He died delirious on the 
second day. 

In the meantime three of the crew had fallen ill, and 
they, Uh), die<l ; and after that there were several deaths 
every day ; within a week of th(‘ outbreak of the fever, 
the f(.rty-six souls whom the iJiana h;id on board when 
she sailed from Liverpool were reduced to twenty-live. 
Vet the virulence of the plague did not abate. It 
seemed as if we should all perish, and 1 do not think 
tjiere were more than two men aboard who believed 
they would escape. 

These two were Bolsover and myself. I had gone so 
much among the sick, exposing myself continually to 
the risk of contagion without suffering the least ill effect, 
that I began to think my immunity was real, after all, 
and that I ran no more risk of taking the fever than a 
man who has been effectively vaccinated runs of taking 
small-pox. 

The boatswain was like Bonaparte — he believed in 
his star. 

“ I am not afraid, Mr. Erle,*’^ he said to me one day : 
my time has not come yet. I am bound to see that 
treasure-ship before I die.^^ 


84 


A QUEER RACK. 


It was about this time that Bucklow (now first 
oHieer, his senior being among the dead) took me to the 
stern^ and pointing to the water, said, grimly — 

There they are, waiting for us. They have been 
Following us tliese last three diys.'^^ 

They were live or six liuge sharks, swimming in 
the wake of the ship. I looked at them for a while as 
if fascinated, and then with a shudder turned away. 
I never went near the tafFrail that I did not look, 
and they were always close under the stern. 

As for Peyton, I thought he was going mad. He 
attended to his duties as diligently as ever, looked after 
the sick as w('ll as he could, and kept the. survivors of 
his crew to their duties, took tlie day^s reckoning, and 
recorded the day^s run ; but he hardly ever spoke, ex- 
cept to give necessary orders. 

For hours together he would pace about the quarter- 
deck, muttering, It’s my doing ! it’s all my doing ! 
We shall all die ! we shall all die I but my time has not 
come yet.” 

Once, when I ventured to suggest that he should cast 
fhe Lady Jane off (at the instance of some of the men, 
who had got it into their heads that so long as we had 
the fever ship in tow the fever would never leave us) he 
turned on me almost fiercely. 

No ! ” he exclaimed, I shall not cast her off. 
Why should I ? AVhat harm has she done ? I am 
doomed — we are all doomed — and the salvage will be a 
provision for my wife and family. Don’t you under- 


YELLOW JACK. 


!^5 

stand? a provision for my wife and family, that’s why. 
But it’s useless to discuss the subject or give my reasons. 
I absolutely refuse to cast the ship off ; let that suffice.’’ 

He was doomed, but not to die of yellow fever. 

The very next morning, when I went on deck, 
Buoklow told me, with a significant look, that the 
captain had been taken ill in the night, and seemed in a 
very bad way. 

I went to him at once. Bucklow spoke truly. The 
captain was, in truth, in a very bad way. He had all 
the symptoms which I now knew so well. Although 
the temperature of his cabin was nearly eighty, and his 
skin hot and dry, he shivered continually. He had a 
terrible hesidache, too, and, albeit still sensible, rambled 
at times in his talk, and I doubted not would soon 
become quite delirious. 

'' Yellow Jack has got hold of me now,” he said, 
trying to smile. I thought he would ; but not so soon, 
not so soon. I was quite well last night. . . What 

think you now — is a man safer at sea or ashore ? Are 
these adventures to your taste, Erie ? You will have 
more, more, and pleasanter ones, I hope. Sorry I asked 
you to come with me. Turned out badly, hasn’t it ? If 
I had known what would happen, you may be sure I would 
have given that brig a wide berth. But now it is too 
late ; and the salvage, you know, will be a provision for 
the wife and children. Poor wife ! poor children ! I 
shall never see them again, Erie — never again ! Give 
them my love when you get home, and say I thought 


86 


A QUEER RACE, 


about them to the last. , . I knew your father; he 
was a very good friend; yes, a very good friend. I 
was second officer of the Orontes when he and your 
mother were passengers ; you wero a passenger too — a 
little chap about two years old. I remember you well ; 
used to trot you about on my shoulder. How did they 
get to St. Thomases ? That is where they came on 
board. Oh, I remember — in a falucha from Maracaibo ; 
yes, that was it, in a falucha from Maracaibo. . . I 

say, what do you think I saw in the night ? — lower- 
ing his voice, and looking fe^fully round. Rats I 
Hundreds 1 They ran all over the place, and played at 
leap-frog on my bed — they did — played at leap-frog en 
my bed. And I could neither touch them nor call out. 
My arms were fastened to my sides, and my tongue re- 
fused to move. . . And what do you think ? But 

don^t tell anybody. A great yellow one — twice as big 
as any of the others — a great yellow one, with black 
whiskers, and white teeth, and fierce red eyes, came and 
sat on my chest and spat at me. It gave me the fever, 
curse it ! Get dogs and cats ; set traps ; lay poison. 
Kill it ! kill it ! Kill that cursed yellow rat, or you will 
all die ! ... A little more of that eau-de-cologne, 

please ; on my eyeballs this time. Thanks. And now I 
will drink again. This thirst is terrible. I am very 
ill, Erle.^^ 

I remained with him an hour or more, laving his 
bead wiib eau-de-cologne and giving him to drink, and 
then, leaving him with his boy for a while, I went 


YELLOW JACK. 


87 


outside to get a breath of fresh air, the cabin .being both 
close and hot. 

Bucklow was still on deck. 

How long will he last, do you think ? he asked. 

Perhaps until to-morrow, I answered, gloomily. 

They have all gone on the second day, or sooner, so 
far j and Peyton has it very badly. I am afraid he will 
be wildly delirious. Somebody should be with him 
continually."^^ 

You have left the boy, I suppose? ** 

Yes; and I shall go back in a few minutes.'’ 

** How long will this last, I wonder ? It's hell ! 
I'll tell you what, Erie. I have a great mind to cast 
that cursed brig off on my own authority. We have 
had no luck since we saw her. I am in command now. 
Do you think I might ?" 

Certainly. Cast her off, by all means, and let us 
make all the haste we can for Monte Video, while 
there's somebody to navigate and sail the ship ; and 
if " 

Rats I Rats! Rats I There's that great yellow 
one with the red eyes I I'll catch him I I’ll catch himr 
if I die for it ! Ah ! he is making for the Lady Janet 
is he! 

** My God ! what is that ? " exclaimed Bucklow, as 
we both turned from the taffrail, over which we had 
been leaning. 

It was the captain running across the deck in his 
shirt, and at the same instant, and before either of us 


88 


A QUEER RACK. 


could raise a hand to stop him, he sprang on the bul- 
wark and jumped into the sea. 

The mate, with ready presence of mind, threw a 
buoy after him, at the same time ordering the ship to be 
brought to and a boat to be lowered. . 

My first impulse was to follow Peyton and try to 
save him. 

Don^t ! said Bucklow, laying his hand on my 
shoulder. He can swim better than you can. And, 
see, it would be certain death/^ 

The captain was swimming with powerful strokes 
towards the Lad^ Jane^ in the v^ery midst of a shoal of 
sharks. “^They were all round him, and even before he 
reached the brig one of the creatures turned on its back 
for the fatal bite. An agonised scream, a piteous look 
from a fever- stricken face, a swirl of the water as the 
wild beasts of the sea fought with each other for their 
prey, and all was over. 

It seemed too terrible to be real. My brain was in a 
whirl ; I felt sick and giddy ; and had not Bucklow put 
his arm around me, I should have fallen on the deck. 

Don^t give way,^^ he said, kindly. " Horrid sight 
as it was, it is perhaps better so. Poor Peyton has 
been spared a long agony. It was not three minutes 
from' the time of his jumping overboard to his death. 
IM rather die like that than as some of our poor fellows 
have died. J ust one crunch, and iPs over. Come ! I 
am going to cast the brig off. I cannot bear the sight 
of her.^^ 


i 


YBI.LOW JACK. 


89 


Sink her, and so prevent the disasters that have 
befallen us from befalling others.^'' 

''We cannot. She is timber laden." 

" Burn her, then.^' 

" I did not think of that. Yes, we will burn her ; 
and those cursed rats with her, if there are any left. 
Will you come with me ? and we will set her on fire, 
and bring those two fellows off. How they have 
escaped. Heaven only knows." 

" With all my heart." 

The dingey was lowered at once, and taking with us 
matches, axes, and a carboy of turpentine, we went on 
board the Lady Jane. 

After opening the ports and hatches to make a good 
draught, we gathered together all the combustible 
material we could find, and took it to the place where 
the ship^s stores were kept — cordage, spare sails, tar, 
and what not — drenched them with turpentine and the 
contents of a cask of rum (which we found on board), 
put a second cask in the middle of the pile, fired it in 
several places, and when it was fairly alight, got into 
the dingey and returned to the Liana with Smithers 
and McKean. 

" She is as dry as a bone," said Bucklow, " and will 
burn like matchwood." 

" Cast her off ! " he cried, as soon as we were on 
board. " By Jove, look there I " 

The hawsers were covered with rats trying to escape, 
and as they reached the guards and could get no further. 


90 


A qUEER RACE. 


those behind thrust the foremost into the sea. Even 
when the hawsers were loosed the rats continued their 
mad flighty and went on pushing each other to certain 
destruction. 

In a few minutes smoke and flame were coming up 
the brig's hatchways ; then the decks took fire ; great 
tongues leaped up and twisted like fiery serpents round 
the masts, and the Lady Jane was all ablaze from stem 
to stern. The timber in the hold also took fire, and 
when the sea broke in and extinguished it, the loosened 
logs of wood were floated out of the hull ; and as the 
fever ship disappeared, a loud cheer went up from the 
survivors of the Diana's crew. 


CHAPTER X. 


MUTINY. 

The destruction of the brig lightened every heart on 
board. 

Sailors are proverbially superstitious, and the scenes 
they had witnessed and the anxiety they had endured 
had made a deep impression on the remnant of the 
Diana's crew, and wound them up to a high pitch of 
excitement. As our misfortunes had begun with the 
Lady Jane, the poor fellows thought they would end 
with her. Having, moreover, come to regard Captain 
Peyton as a Jonah, they looked on his tragic death as 
at once a judgment and an expiation, and made sure 
that now he was gone the luck would change. 

Even Bucklow, educated man as he was, could not 
help sharing in this hallucination; and the alacrity with 
which he . changed the ship^s course, and the energetic 
and almost cheery manner in which he gave his orders, 
showed how greatly his mind was relieved. 

I, too, was glad we had got rid of the brig — like 
Bucklow, I hated the very sight of her — but I could 
neither share in the general confidence, nor believe that 
in getting rid of the fever ship we had got rid of the 
fever. I was too much depressed to be hopeful, and I 


92 


A QUEER RACE. 


had read in one of the medical hooks which formed part 
of Peyton^s library that a high temperature favoured the 
development of yellow fever ; that the most certain cure 
for it is cold weather. But during the last day or two the 
temperature had risen and the wind fallen off, and as we 
were now making direct for the equator, there was every 
likelihood of our having it still warmer. The brig, 
moreover, had done her worst, so to speak ; her con- 
tiguity ceased to be a danger, and the chief advantage 
of her disappearance was that it encouraged the men, 
and enabled us to make better speed ; although, as our 
coal was nearly done, Bucklow thought it better to stop 
the engine and unship the screw. 

Great gains, so far as they went; but I could not 
believe that they were sufficient to stay the plague. 
Bucklow was more sanguine and superstitious. 

'' The omens are all good, Erie,'' he exclaimed , clapping 
me on the back. There has not been a fret h case since 
yesterday, except poor Peyton's ; the wind is freshening 
— we shall be doing six knots soon if this goes on — and 
look there ! those white-bellied devils have left us." 

So they had. Not a shark was to be seen. 

I confess that at first this rather staggered me ; one 
cannot help believing just a little in omens ; and dumb 
creatures have very subtle instincts — still, how on earth 
can sharks have any ideas about yellow fever? There 
must be some other cause. Ah I I think I have it. 

** Yes, they are gone, sure enough," I said. '‘But I 
am afraid Don't you think the burning of the biig 


MUTINY. 


98 


has something to do with it ? I have heard that sharks 
are easily scared, and the blaze and the heat, and the 
fall of burning embers into the water, might easily 
frighten much bolder animals.^' 

What a croaker you are, Erie ! Why cannot you 
Jet a fellow cherish a pleasing illusion? — if it be an 
illusion — and really, you know, I don't think it is. 
These creatures' senses are very acute, and it is quite 
conceivable that their leaving us is a good sign." 

I should be glad to think so. But what do you 
call that?" I asked, pointing to the dorsal fin of a 
shark which just tlien appeared above the water. 

** Heaven help us ! they are coming back I And 
what a monster ! Five-and-thirty feet, if it is an inch ! 
And there is another. How will it all end, Erie ? " 

** That is more than I can say ; but I am quite sure 
that it will end neither better nor worse because those 
sharks have come back. I suppose it is their nature to 
follow in a ship’s wake." 

But Bucklow shook his head ; the incident had made 
a deep impression on him, and he evidently put more 
faith in omens than he was willing to admit. 

For the next two days, however, things did go better 
with us; there were no fresh cases, and two sailors who 
had been taken ill before the captain died seemed as if 
they might recover. At any rate, it was past the third 
day, and they were still alive, which showed, I thought, 
that the malady was losing something of its virulence. 

But the improvement was short-lived. The breeze 


94 


A QTTSGIt B>ACS« 


did not take us very far, and when it fell off the heat 
became intense, the two patients died, and we had 
several fresh cases. In several instances men died with- 
out being laid up. There was a suppression of some 
of the secretions, intense pain in the limbs lasting 
for a few hours, and the sufferers were struck down on 
the deck. It was probably in this way that the poor 
creatures whose bodies we found on the Lady Jane came 
by their end. 

The crew, now reduced to less than a score, were 
sorely discouraged by tliis change for the worse. Sick 
of disappointed hope, they became desperate and de- 
moralised ; the bonds of discipline were loosened, and 
Bucklow could hardly prevail on them to work the ship. 

And no wonder. Let the reader imagine, if he can, 
what his own feelings would be if he were shut up in a 
house where a deadly and frightfully contagious disease 
was rife, where people were dying every day, and from 
which there was no possibility of escape. 

We shall have trouble,” said Bucklow; '^the men 
are in a very evil humour. I doubt if 1 shall ever get 
this ship to Monte Video. However, Fll try my best, 
and more than that can no man do.” 

He kept the deck almost continually, and when he 
turned in for an hour^s sleep, Bolsover (who now acted 
as mate) took the command. These two were the only 
pfheers left alive, and it was no longer possible to arrange 
the watches in the regular way. We had to do as well 
as we could, and I gave all the help in my power, which 


MUTINY. 


95 


was not much, I fear, for I am no seaman. But I could 
keep them company, and now and then I took a turn at 
the wheel, for, short-handed as we were becoming, 
ability to steer might stand us in good stead. 

I was getting up one morning rather past my usual 
time, for I had turned in late the night before, when 
Bucklow came to me in a state of suppressed excitement. 

want you on deck,’^ he said. There is going 
to be a row. The men have got to the spirits, and 
are nearly all drunk and getting obstreperous — won^t 
obey orders. The wind is freshening, too, and unless we 
take in sail we shall be in a mess.'^ 

I made haste with my dressing, and followed him on 
deck forthwith, first putting a revolver in my trousers 
pocket, by way of being ready for all emergencies. 

Except the quartermaster at the wheel and a Swede, 
called Oscar, a decent God-fearing man, all the hands 
were in the waist of the ship. They had broached a 
cask of rum, and were nearly all more or less drunk. 
Bucklow and Bolsover were remonstrating with them, 
and trying to persuade them to return to their duty and 
do as they were bid. 

The answer was a laugh of defiance and a torrent of 
abuse. 

We’ll work no more on this ship,*'^ shouted one 

fellow. Let her go to the bottom, and be d d to 

her.^^ 

" Come, come, men, be reasonable,^' remonstrated 
Bucklow. It is very rough on you, I know ; it is rough 


96 


A QlIEEl^ RACE. 


on all of U8. But this sort of tiling will do no good. Tln^ 
more you drink, the more likely you are to die/^ 

^'That’s what we want. We want to die/* 
hiccoughed a sailor, filling himself a glass of rum» 
What^s the use of living ? Tell me that. What^s 
the use of living on a fever ship like this ^ere ? Better 
die of drink than be killed by Yellow Jack. Here 
goes ** — tossing off the glass. I swear Fll never be 
sober again 1 I'll die drunk ! Hip, hip, hurrah ! ** 

I say, cap’n — ^you calls yourself cap^n, don^t you?'^ 
said another, coming close up to Bucklow — you just 
sheer off and leave us alone, or it’ll be worse for you. 
We are the masters of this ^ere ship, and we mean to do 
what we d d like I ** 

The words were hardly out of the fellow’s mouth 
when Bucklow knocked him down, and then, with a 
gesture of anger and disgust, the mate turned on his 
heel, which he had no sooner done than one of the 
cowardly scoundrels, who had crept behind him un- 
perceived, struck him a terrible blow on the head with 
a belaying pin. 

But he was quickly avenged. 

As Bucklow reeled and fell, I drew my revolver 
and shot his assailant dead. Then, pointing the still 
smoking weapon at the others, I bade them throw 
the cask of rum overboard. 

The death of their comrade had scared, if not sobered 
them, and I was obeyed on the instant. 

Is there any more, Bolsover ? ” I asked. 


M UTINY. 


97 


** Yes, sir ; two casks 

Fetch them here and throw them overboard.” 

This, too, was done. 

In the meanwhile Oscar the Swede, and one or two 
of the men who were more sensible than the rest, had 
raised poor Bucklow up and carrie'd him into the captain’s 
cabin. He was badly hurt, and quite insensible. After 
doing all I could for him, bathing and plaistering up the 
wound on his head, and leaving him in charge of our 
only surviving boy, I went on deck again, and found 
that those of the men who were not absolutely drunk 
and incapable were shortening sail under Bolsover^s 
directions. 

^'You’ve frightened ^em, sir,” said the boatswain. 

The way you shot down that scoundrel Smithers was 
a caution.” 

'' It was done on the impulse of the moment, 
Bolsover ; my revolver seemed to go pif by itself,” I re- 
turned ; for Smithers still lay where he fell, in a pool of 
blood. The ghastly sight made me feel deeidedly uncom- 
fortable ; I began to think that 1 had been too hasty. 

** And a very good thing t(X),” said Bolsover, 
** Don’t let that trouble you, sir. You served the fellow 
right; the men themselves think so. To strike down 
Mr. Bucklow was worse than murder — it was treason. 
If anything happens to him, there will be nobody to 
navigate the ship, and then what shall we do?” 

If anything happens to Mr. Bucklow ! You surely 
(j m’t think, Bolsover ” 


H 


98 


A qUEER RACE. 


Well, that was a terrible crack on the head 
Smithers gave him ; it’s much if he ever speaks again, 
I think.” 

He never did. After remaining insensible for three 
days, the mate recovered consciousness, but not power 
of speech. He evidently wanted to say something, and 
made several vain yet desperate efforts to articulate; 
then with his eyes he bade me a pathetic farewell, 
pressed my hand, and quietly passed away. 

Peace be to his ashes ! I think Bucklow*s death 
affected me more than any other which had yet 
occurred. It was not merely that it left us helpless 
and utterly incapable of taking the ship to her destina- 
tion; I liked him personally. He was a courageous, 
open-hearted sailor, wise in council and prompt in 
action ; and the loss of so many of our comrades had 
brought us into close companionship. I had come to 
entertain a warm affection for him, and he was the only 
one left with whom I could converse on terms of 
intellectual equality. 


CHAPTER XT. 


BECALMED. 

After poor Bucklow^s death, the fever became more 
virulent than ever, and if fewer died it was merely be- 
cause fewer were left to kill. The contagion spread 
with portentous rapidity, the interval between the first 
seizure and the fatal close being often frightfully short. 

At the end of the following week two only were 
left — Bolsover and myself. Of the forty-seven who 
had sailed from LiverpoDl, little more than a month 
previously, we were the sole survivors. All the rest 
slept their long sleep in the fathomless depths of the 
wild Atlantic. 

What my feelings were I can hardly remember, and 
do not care to recall. I was stunned, overwhelmed, 
and, as it seemed, almost paralysed by the stupendous 
nature of the calamity which had overtaken me, and by 
bitter grief for those who were gone. But for Bolsover 
I think I must have gone mad. He too sorrowed, 
in his own fashion, for our lost comrades; yet his 
grief seemed to sit lightly on him, and in his manner 
there was at times something that looked very like 
exultation, the cause of which I was at first at a loss to 
divine. But a casual expression he let drop enlightened 
H % 


100 


A QUEER RACE. 


me. He regarded his escape and mine as proof that 
we were the destined discoverers of the Santa Anna. 

Had I been less depressed, I should have been 
amused, probably have laughed at him. As it was, I 
thought it best not to answer him. You cannot argue 
with a monomaniac. 

But on every other point the boatswain, as usual, 
was eminently sane and practical. 

“ There is only you and me now,'* he said, and we 
can neither handle the ship nor navigate her ; but we 
can do our best. There is no more sail on her than will 
give her steering way in a light breeze, and if it comes 
on to blow we shall maybe not take much harm. You 
can steer pretty well now, and we must take the wheel 
turn and turn about." 

That is all very fine ; but where shall we make 
for?" 

''Well, I don't think as we can do better than stick 
to the course we are on, and as Mr. Bucklow last laid 
down — sou'-west by south — as far as the wind will let 
us. 

" Will that bring us to Monte Video ?'* 

" I don’t think it will, exactly ; but there or there- 
abouts, perhaps." 

" Have you any idea where we are ? " 

" Not within a degree or two ; but, from the feel, 
we should not be far from the line." 

" Rather vague ; but it is hot enough for anything, 
if that is what you mean. However, about this steering. 


BECALMED. lOl 

It can easily be arranged as you suggest. While ono 
steers the other can cook, and sleep, and keep a look- 
out. Our best chance of rescue is to attract the atten- 
tion of some passing vessel. Can we do anything more 
than reverse the Union Jack 

don^t know as we can; and keep our number 
always flying.*^ 

There is still one thing we have not thought of. 
Suppose something happens — that some emergency' 
arises that forces me to quit the wheel while you are 
asleep ? 

** The only thing you can do in that case would be to 
lash the wheel amidships. I will show you how. But 
we must do our sleeping in the captain^s cabin. We 
shall always be within hail of each other. You have 
only to whistle, and I will come." 

" Aren^t you afraid of sleeping in the captain^s 
cabin ? " 

Not a bit. I shall not take the fever. If I could, 
I should have done so long since." 

All the same, I would not throw away a chance, if 
I were you. There is no telling " 

Old Tom," as the sailors had called him, smiled 
superciliously, as much as to say that I did not know 
what I was talking about. 

Very well," I said. Go and turn in. You had 

no sleep last night, and I had. I will take the 
wheel." 

Thank you, sir. I do feel a bit sleepy. Wak^n 


A qUREll RACi!. 


losi 

me up vvheu you feel tired. Kee[) her olf and by — as 
she is ; that^s all you have to do.^^ 

And so T was left in sole charge of the Diana — 
a strange position for a landsman on his first voyage ! 
A captain without a crew^ a navigator innocent of 
navigation,, steering generally for the equator,, and with 
an uncertain hope of sooner or later reaching the coast 
<»f South America^ somewhere between the Amazons 
and Cape Horn, and the off chance of knocking against 
the continent of Africa, or being' blown into the Pacific 1 
Not the sort of outlook to make a man merry, even 
though he has nothing [)articular on his mind ; and on 
mine lay dark memories of the valley of the shadow of 
death through which I had just passed. But 1 was too 
busy to brood. I did not steer so well that J could do 
it automatically like an A.B. I had to give the wheel 
my closest attention and watch the ship continually, 
yet with all my pains I let her fall off several times, 
much to my annoyance. The wind, moreover, occa- 
sionally varied a point or two, thereby increasing the 
difficulty of my task. But I did not call Bolsover; I 
thought I would let him sleep as long as he liked ; and 
when he voluntarily came to relieve me, I had been at 
my post nearly five hours. 

Why didn't you call me ? " he said, reproachfully. 

You must be both tired and hungry. Go and get 
something to eat, and then turn in for an hour or 
two. I don't think we shall either of us get much 
sleep to-night." 


BECALMED. 


103 


'‘There is going to be a change of weather. The 
glass is going down fast, and clouds are gathering to 
windward. But we shall not get it just yet. When 
you have had your grub and your sleep, we must reef 
the foresail. Then we shall be safe, I think.''^ 

I acted promptly on old Tom’s suggestion, for 
the air and the work had made me both hungry and 
sleepy. 

When I returned from my snooze, the wind had risen 
considerably, and blew in fitful gusts ; the sun went 
down red, amid a mass of ominous-looking clouds, and, 
as Bolsover said, there was every likelihood of a dirty 
night. The time had come to reduce our spread of 
canvas, and the ship being under a patent foretopsail 
and jib, we lowered and reefed the former without 
difficulty. The boatswain then made all snug, battened 
down the hatches, and brought a suit of oilskin and 
a pair of sea-boots for himself, and another for me, 
put food, water, and grog within reach, and lighted 
the lanterns. When he had done all that was neces- 
sary, or, rather, all that he could, he joined me at the 
wheel, for, as he said, it would take two to steer, and all 
little enough. 

And so it proved. The wind rose every moment, 
and though we had so little sail set, the ship went 
through the water like an Atlantic liner at full speed. 
Then it lulled a little, and the rain came down as it 
only can come down in the tropics, rattling on the deck 


1U4 


A QUEER RACE. 


like discharges of musketry, and tumbling out of the 
scuppers in cascades. From time to time there came 
a tremendous clap of thunder; the sky was ablaze with 
lightning, which brought every spar and rope of the 
ship into vivid relief, and cast a lurid glow on an 
angry sea billowed with foam-crested waves. But we 
were by no means in the centre of the storm, else it 
had gone ill with us ; and the rain, by keeping the 
sea down somewhat, probably prevented us from being 
pooped. 

When morning broke the rain was still falling, and 
the wind blowing in strong gusts ; the Diana was 
scudding before it, and we were still both at the wheel ; 
and except for intervals of a few minutes, when one 
or other of us snatched a morsel of food or took a 
pull at the bottle of half -water grog which Tom had 
put under the binnacle, we remained at the wheel all 
that day and all the next night. 

What distance we made in this time we had no 
means of exactly computing ; but when the wind began 
to fall off, Tom tried our rate of sailing with the patent 
log, and found it to be eight knots ; but our average 
speed during the thirty-six hours the gale lasted must 
have been much more, and we probably ran not less 
than four hundred miles. Where we were we could 
form only the very vaguest idea, for our course had been 
most erratic, the wind shifting continually. 

When the storm abated, and there was promise of 
better weather, Bolsover suggested that I should turn in. 


BECALMED. 


105 


I am more used to this sort of thing than you are/^ 
he said. I can stand it a while longer ; but you are 
about used up, I think. Lie down for an hour or two ; 
I will waken you up when I want you.^^ 

I required no second bidding. I was utterly spent, 
and only half-conscious. Without undressing, I threw 
myself on the hunk in the captain's cabin, and almost 
before my head touched the pillow was fast asleep. 

When I awoke, as it seemed to me an hour or so 
later, the sun was shining brightly, and the boatswain 
lay asleep on the floor. 

Hallo ! " I thought. Has old Tom deserted his 
post ? Why didn't he waken me ? " 

But when I looked out I saw that the sea was per- 
fectly calm — ^^not a breath of air ruffled its glassy surface 
— and the Diana lay there, as still and motionless as 
a painted ship upon a painted ocean." 

Clearly no need for a man at the wheel, and Tom 
had done quite right to take his rest without interrupt- 
ing mine. 

After a wash and a walk round the ship, I went to 
the galley, kindled the fire, madeTobscouse and pea soup, 
and when all was ready returned to the cabin to look 
after Tom. He was just opening his eyes. 

Have you had a good sleep ? " I asked. 

** Very ; and you ? " 

" Oh, pretty well. I must have had three or four 
hours, and if I had not been so hungry I should have 
gone on a while longer." 


A RACS* 


106 

Three or four hours ! Why, bless you, Mr. Erie, 
you have slept more like thirty hours ! 

** Nonsense, Bolsover ! I know better 
''Well, then, the sun is going wrong. It was a 
good deal past noon when I turned in, and — glancing 
at the sun — " it cannot be much past eleven now. Yes, 
Mr. Erie, you have slept something like thirty hours, 
and me about twenty-four — and a good thing too. W’^e 
wanted it. When it fell calm I knew as the ship could 
take care of herself, so I just lashed the wheel amid- 
ships, laid myself down on the cabin floor just as I was, 
and let you go on with your sleep. And now let us 
have some grub, for I am most terrible sharp-set, and 
that lobscouse smells as sweet as a posy. We may take 
our ease a bit now, Mr. Erie. This is a calm as will 
last, this is.^' 

" How long will it last} do you think ? ** 

"The Lord only knows ! Maybe a fortnight, maybe 
three weeks. I have heard of calms in these latitudes 
— we must be somewhere about the doldrums — Eve 
heard of ^em lasting six and seven weeks.^^ 

" A pleasant prospect ! Why, we shall be nearly 
frizzled ! I would rather have a storm or two.^^ 

"ThaEs a sentiment as I should say amen to, if we 
had a rather more powerful crew, Mr. Erie ; but with a 
ship^s company of two, ofiicers and passengers included, 
I would not pray for a gale, though I might whistle for 
a wind. With our small spread of canvas a light breeze 
would not do us much good, and it would not be safe to 


BECALMED. lot 

spread more, even if we could. But Tm in no hurry, 
Mr. Erie — I^m in no hurry. WeVe plenty of grub and 
water aboard, and I^m quite content to abide in these 
latitudes a while longer ; for it is hereabouts — or, if not 
hereabouts, a bit further south — that I expect to light 
on the Santa Anna** 

^^You old idiot ! I was going to say; but not 
wanting to hurt the foolish fellow's feelings or fall out 
with him, I merely asked why on earth he expected to 
find the treasure-ship in that particular spot, especially 
as we did not know within a thousand miles where we 
were. 

''We are in the doldrums,^^ he answered, doggedly, 
" there can be no doubt about that ; and I have always 
said as if the Santa Anna was not cast away — and I 
don^t think she was cast away — I have always said as 
she was somewhere in the doldrums ; and I am sure I 
am right. 

This was conclusive, and I could only say that I 
hoped we should sight the Santa Anna soon, and find 
her treasure aboard. 

. Oh, we shall find the treasure, sure enough ! 
What would be the use of sighting her if we didn^t?"^ 


CHAPTEE Xil. 


BEFOGGED. 

As may be supposed, life on the becalmed vessel was 
not particularly amusing. We had not much to talk 
about, and out of his own line old Tom was as ignorant 
as an infant. There were, fortunately, plenty of books 
on board — at least a hundred of them being fiction — 
and I spent much of my time in reading, and studying, 
as well as I could with the means at my disposal, the 
theory of navigation. Then I wrote up the log-book, 
or rather, made an entry in it every day, for there was 
very little to set down. Had I not done so I should 
have lost count of time, so like was one day to another. 
Now and then I went into the engine-room, and by 
getting up steam, starting and stopping the engine, I 
familiarised myself with its working. After a while, I 
be(iame a fairly expert engineer, and had our coal 
bunkers not been so nearly empty, I should have 
shipped the screw and steamed in the direction whith^i* 
1 thought lay the nearest land. 

Bolsover pottered about the ship, mended sails, 
spliced ropes, washed the decks, smoked, and slept; yet 
he got very weary, and one day proposed that, by way 
of diversion, we should make war on the rats. I asked 
how he would do it, seeing that we had neither cats, 
traps, dogs, nor ferrets. 


BEFOGGED. 


109 


** 1 will make the beggars drown tbemselves,^^ he 
said. 

And then he disclosed his plan. Rats^ he explained, 
cannot live without water, and this was the reason why 
there were so many of them about the water-tanks, where 
they slaked their thirst by licking up the drippings and 
droppings. But as there was so much less water drawn 
than formerly, there were fewer drippings, and the rats 
being for that reason extremely dry, water would make 
a splendid bait. All that was necessary would be to 
take buckets, put a few inches of water at the bottom — 
mixed with molasses to prevent them from jumping out 
— fix long strips of wood on the sides, so balanced that 
when the rats ran along them to get at the water they 
would fall into the buckets. 

^^Very well,'*’ I saidj '^try it. But in my opinion 
the less you have to do with the rats the better. If they 
have not got the fever — I wish they had — they can 
give it.^' 

Oh, I have no fear. I shall not take the fever. I 
never thought I should. Besides, that storm must have 
blown it all out of the ship.^^ 

So Tom arranged his buckets, put them down into 
the hold near the water-tanks, and awaited the result 
with great expectations. 

An hour later he came up in great glee, bringing 
one of his buckets. 

^^Look hei-el'' he exclaimed. "And there^s more 
in the others/^ 


no 


A qUEER RACE. 


In the bottom of the bucket was a writhing mass of 
rats. The water had not been deep enough to drown all 
of them^ and the survivors^ entangled in the molasses^ 
were fighting desperately over the bodies of their comrades. 

Poor wretches I said. Put them out of their 
misery, Tom 

Poor wretches ! Put them out of their misery ! 1 

would rather put them into a bit more. Isn^t it them 
as did all the mischief? But here goes I 1^11 chuck 
them into the water and let the sharks catch ^em — if 
they can. They ^11 be well met.^' 

And with that Tom went to the taffrail and turned 
the bucket upside-down, whereupon all the rats, dead 
and alive — all save one, a fierce-looking, grey- whiskered 
veteran, which contrived to cling to the side — fell pell- 
mell into the sea. 

Get out, you big devil 1 said the boatswain, 
seizing it by the tail. 

But instead of getting out, the rat twisted round 
and fixed its long, sharp teeth into its captor^s thumb. 
Tom dropped the bucket like a hot potato, and catching 
the creature by the neck, choked it off and sent it 
spinning. 

By , it hurts I he exclaimed, popping the 

wounded thumb into his mouth. 

You had better go and bathe it with hot water, 

I said. Rat-bites are nasty things sometimes.^^ 

I don’t think it^s worth while. 1^11 put a bit of 
pitch on. It's the best plaister I know. I never 


BEFOGGED. 


Ill 


thought a rat could bite so keen. That grey -whiskered 
beggar^s teeth were like pins and needles.” 

This incident made the boatswain more inveterate 
agamst the rats than ever. He converted all the 
buckets in the ship into traps, and by sunset he had 
caught several dozens. He took care, however, before 
throwing them overboard, to see that they were properly 
drowned, and even then he handled the bucket in such 
a way as to prevent any possibility of a second bite. 

But the rats, though they perished, had thek 
revenge. The next morning Bolsover was very ill. The 
thumb was inflamed and exceedingly painful, and he had 
all the appearance of sickening for yellow fever. I was 
seriously alarmed, for, despite his craze about the Santa 
Anna, old Tom was a thorough seaman and a very good 
fellow. You cannot be thrown much with a man (at 
any rate, I cannot) without getting to like him — unless 
he is absolutely repulsive — and I had got to like the 
boatswain. Besides, what would become of me if 1 
should be left alone on board a big ship in mid -ocean, 
utterly ignorant of my whereabouts, only just able to 
steer, and hardly knowing one sail from another ? 

If it were possible to keep old Tom alive, I meant to 
do it, although, judging by my recent experience, the 
odds against his recovery were hundreds to one. On 
the other hand, the very fact that he had remained so 
long invulnerable showed that he possessed great resist- 
ing power, and rendered it probable that he would make 
a tougher fight for his life than the others had done. 


112 


A QUEER RACE. 


The first thing was to get my patient to keep his bed, 
which for a time he obstinately refused to do. To con- 
fess that he was ill would not only have touched his pride 
and made his boastings look rather ridiculous, but would 
have gone far to falsify his predictions. So he pretended 
that his illness was a mere passing indisposition — a bit 
of a headache ** — made light of his swollen thumb, and 
insisted on getting up and helping to prepare breakfast. 

But the strongest will cannot long bear up under 
severe local pain and the all-pervading agonies of fever, 
and it was not long before Bolsover confessed himself 
beaten, and took to his bed. 

I never thought I should be ill,^^ he murmured ; 
“ but it won't be much. I shall be well in a day or two, 
I know I shall. You were right, Mr. Erie : I shouldn't 
have meddled with them rats, hang 'em I I don't care 
how soon we get out of this ship. There's a curse on 
her; that's what it is. There's a curse on her." 

Tom must Have been very bad to own himself in the 
wrong. It was an evil sign, and made me almost 
despair of his recovery. 

I had lately read a second time, in some instances a 
third time, the medical books in the captain's cabin, and 
the knowledge thus acquired, and my own observation, 
had given me certain ideas as to treatment of yellow 
fever, which I now proceeded to put into practice. 
Medicine having produced no effect in previous cases, 1 
determined to try something else. 

One of the most characteristic symptoms of the 


BBPOGGiSD. 


118 


malady is intense heat, the patient's temperature being 
often as high as one hundred and seven degrees. I pre- 
sumed, though I did not know for certain, that this was 
owing to an arrest of perspiration. The main point, 
therefore, was to make my patient sweat; so I rolled 
him up in a wet sheet, then put a pile of blankets on 
the top of him, and made him drink about a gallon of 
hot water. I kept him in the pack for hours, and when 
I unpacked him, washed him all over with salt water. 
This operation I repeated several times in succession, 
and always when the fever got worse and, his skin 
became hot and dry. I do not presume to say that I 
cured Bolsover, for the illness ran its course; but, at 
any rate, he recovered, and that is what none of the 
others did. The fever may, however, have been of a 
milder type than theirs, and it is of course quite pos- 
sible that he would have got better in any case, and 
did actually get better, not because of, but in spite of, 
my treatment. But my patient thought otherwise. 
He quite believed I had cured him, said that he owed 
me his life, and, in the fulness of his heart, protested 
that, whether I helped him to find the Santa Anna 
or not, he should give me half her cargo of gold and 
silver. 

“ Thank you, Tom/' I said, laughing. I'll take it, 
with all my heart ; and it will be the biggest fee ever 
paid to a quack doctor since the world began, and that 
is saying a great deal." 

There is nothing to laugh at,** answered the 


1 


114 


A RACE. 


boatswain^ who could rxnuT bear being chaffed about his 
craze. There is nothing to laugh at^ and 1^11 make a 
man of you yet, Mr. Erie, never fear ! You will be the 
richest man in Liverpool one of these days.’* 

But Tom did not get better either very soon or 
very easily. He lay in his hammock three weeks, and 
rose from it a yellow-skinned, lantern- jawed ghost, 
hardly able to put one leg before the other. 

T shall not be of much use wlien the change comes, 
he said, as I sup])orted him to a Southampton chair, 
under an awning we had rigged up a short time before 
he fell ill. 

What change ? ” 

“ Change of weather, to be sure. And it is bound 
to come soon. How long have we been here?^’ 

We have been becalmed live weeks ; but as to how 
long we have been here I would not venture to offer an 
opinion. 1 am not sure whether we are here I ** 

You are getting beyond me now, Mr. Erie. Not 
sure whether we are here ? Where else should we 
be?’^ 

I mean that we are moying. At any rate, I think 
so. I happened this morning to throw a cork overboard 
at the stern, and now it is at the bows.” 

There must be a current, then.^' 

It looks so ; and if the cork moves, so must the 
ship, though not so fast.” 

** You may soon find out whether she moves. Make 
a trial with the log.'*' 


BElf’OGGED. 


115 


''A happy thought! It never occurred to me. I 
will do it at once.^^ 

And I did. The Diana was progressing through 
the water at the rate of a knot an hour. 

If we have been going at this speed all along for 
the last five weeks/^ I said, making a rapid mental 
calculation, we have done eight hundred and forty 
miles.”^^ 

“ I don’t think we have been going at this speed all 
aKmg. When I fell ill it was as dead a calm as it could 
be, and as hot as blazes. And now it is cooler — I am 
sure it is cooler. Don^t you think so ? " 

I know it is. I look at the thermometer every 
day, and the average temperature is from seven to ten 
degrees lower than it was a fortnight since.'’ 

If we have been doing a knot an hour these last 
three weeks, how much would that make ? " 

“ Five hundred and four miles.” 

" Which means that much further south. Well, I 
shouldn’t wonder. Have you looked at the chart 
lately ? ” 

I have pored over it till my head aches ; and the 
more I look the more puzzled I become. I never in my 
life felt so ignorant and helpless. How I wish I had 
got poor Captain Peyton to give me a few lessons in 
navigation I ” 

* I wish you had, Mr. Erie. It almost seems as 
we shall have to keep on as we are till something turns 
up, doesn't it ? '' 


116 


A qUEEJi, RACK. 


^ Like a couple of Mioawbers/^ 

Eh?” 

mean it vexes me to be so utterly helpless, an*l 
T weary of having nothing to do/^ 

** Don’t worrit yourself, sir. We shall get some- 
where some time, if you will only be quiet ; and when 
the weather changes you will have quite enough to do. 
And there is a feel in the air and a look about the sun as 
tells me that the change won^t be long in cogiing. That 
signal with our number seems to be stirring a bit, 
doesn't it ? " 

Yes ; I think it is fluttering just a little." 

There must be a light breeze aloft, then ; and if we 
could only set our topsails, and main and mizzen top- 
gallant sails, we might get steering way on her, and 
make, may be, two or three knots an hour." 

Two or three knots ! I wish we could make 
twenty knots and get somewhere," I exclaimed, pas- 
sionately.- Storm, tempest, shipwreck, anything would 
be better than this intolerable calm.” 

Hush ! hush ! Mr. Erie, don't you be a tempting 
of Providence; we shall have a wind before long, you’ll 
see. We don't want no storm, or tempests, or ship- 
wrecks. Just a fair wind, and no more." 

Weathei wise as old Tom undoubtedly was, his fore- 
cast — influenced probably by his wishes — remained a 
dead letter for a whole week. But as he repeated it 
every day, he proved himself a true prophet in the end. 
Contrary to my expectations — for I had read and heard 


BEFOGGED. 


117 


that tropical calms are almost invariably succeeded by 
terrible storms — the change came gradually. First of all 
a breatb of air, just sufficient to tauten the jibs and fill 
the foresail, without having any sensible effect on the 
progress of the ship ; then a light wind, which gave us 
steering way, followed at a short interval by a spanking 
breeze that sent us along at the rate of four or five 
knots an hour, and made us wild to spread more canvas. 

We carried this breeze with us several days, and with 
a lower temperature, bright sunshine, and a grand sea, 
we felt better and more hopeful than we had felt for 
a long time. Our voyage, we thought, must be coming 
to an end. We could surely not go much further with- 
out either sighting a sail or making laud. But when 
our hopes were at the highest, the fine weather sud- 
denly collapsed. Clouds gathered, the sun disappeared, 
and a fine rain fell, so thick and misty that we could 
not see more than a cable s length ahead. This went on 
for days ; the wind changed, too, and not being able to 
tack, we were obliged to change with it, and almost 
reverse our course. 

This is worse than the calm,^^ grumbled old Tom, 
and if it goes on we shall either be ramming the ship 
ashore, or getting run down by a steamer.^^ 

It not only went on, but grew worse. The rain melted 
into a fog so dense that after sundown we were shrouded 
in a darkness so impenetrable that we could not see a 
hand^s breadth before us, and had absolutely to grope our 
way about the ship. It was like solitary confinement 


118 


A QUEER RACE. 


in a black hole, with an extreme probability of sudden 
death. Our spirits sank to zero, and my courage almost 
gave out. Even old Tom, confident as he had hitherto 
been, began to despair. To run aground or be dashed 
against some iron-bound shore in that pitchy darkness 
would be death in its most frightful shape. Yet the 
certainty of death were easier to bear than the suspense 
we were compelled to endure,, and the consciousness that 
every moment might be our last. Bolsover, being still 
weak, could give me, little help, and except when I took 
an hour's rest, once or twice in the twenty- four, I was 
always at the helm. But every man's strength has its 
limits, and after a while I became so used up that I 
could stand it no longer. 

We can only die once," I said to Bolsover ; “ and 
whether we live or die, I must sleep." 

So I lashed the wheel amidships and turned in. 
When I awoke there was a glimmering light, but 
whether of gloaming or dawn I could not determine, for 
I had lost all count of time, knew not the day of the 
week, and had forgotten to wind up both my own watch 
and the late captain's chrorrometer. 

I went on deck, and found the helm still lashed 
amidships ; but Bolsover was nowhere to be seen, and I 
looked into his bunk, and, armed with a lantern, visited 
all his accustomed haunts without result. 

God bless me I " I thought. " He surely cannot 
have fallen overboard I That would be too awful I " 

I returned to the poop, seriously alarmed, and began 


BEFOGGED. 


HP 


to unlash the helm (not seeing- what more I could do 
until there was more light), when I heard a hail from 
the masthead. 

Is that you, Tom ? I shouted. Rather a super- 
fluous question, perhaps, for it could not well be any- 
‘body else. Yet it seemed hardly possible for a sick man 
to climb in the dark to the masthead of a ship that was 
rolling like a log. 

Ay, ay, sir ; it^s me. Fll be down directly was 
the answer. 

Ten minutes later (by which time it was decidedly 
lighter) he came sliding down the shrouds. 

What were you thinking of, to go up to the mast- 
head in your present weak state ? I said, reproachfully. 
** Suppose you had fallen overboard?'' 

And if I had ! You know what you said before 
you turned in about two days since ? " 

Two days since ? " 

** Nearly , though there's so little difference between 
day and night that I cannot be quite sure. You said as 
a man can only die once. All the same, I don't think 
there's much risk in going to the masthead — I am 
stronger than I was when you went asleep — and fogs is 
queer sorts of things ; it often happens as they lies just 
on the top of the water, and all above is clear and bright 
— leastways, so I've heard say. So I thought as I would 
just go up and find out, if I could, whether this here 
fog is of that there nature.'* 

^^Isit?" 


120 


A QUEER RACE. 


Partly. Anyhow, it is a good deal clearer up there 
than down here, and a score yards or so higher up I dare- 
say it is hroad daylight. All the same, I saw the sun 
rise ; and, what’s more, I made out something as looks 
very like land.” 

Land I Land at last 1 Thank God 1 ” I gasped, • 
almost speechless with surprise and joy. But are you 
sure you are not mistaken ? Where away ? ” 

“ On the port bow. No, I don’t think I am mis- 
taken. It looks like a big mountain, fifteen or twenty 
miles off, maybe. Give me a glass, and I’ll go up again 
and have another squint.” 

** ni go with you, Tom. Wait half a minute.” 

As I spoke I whipped into the captain’s cabin and 
fetched two binoculars. I slung one round my neck 
and handed the other to the boatswain. 

Don’t you think as you had better take the helm, 
sii*, and keep her up to the wind ? She rolls so much as 
it will hardly be possible to make anything out. Then, 
when I come down, which it won’t be many minutes, I 
can take the helm and you can go up.” 

There was so much sense in this suggestion that I 
was fain to comply with it, notwithstanding my eager- 
ness to take a squint ” on my own account — and it 
was well I did. As I went to the wheel, the boatswain 
began to climb up the shrouds, slowly and painfully, 
being still rather short-winded and weak-kneed. 

I had just steadied the ship, and he had got as far as 
the upper maiii-topsail yard, when there came out of the 


BEFOGGED. 


121 


fog a hail so startling and unexpected that it almost 
made me jump out of my skin. 

“ Starboard ! Hard a starboard ! For God^s sake 
starboard your helm I ” 

As I whirled round the wheel the fog rolled back 
and revealed a scene the like of which I had never 
before beheld, or even imagined, and old Tom caane 
down on the deck with a run. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

PAINTED OB PIEBALD? 

Right before us rose sheer out of the water a tall white 
rock, at least fifty feet high. Another moment and we 
should have crashed against it, '^stem on.^^ We were 
saved only by Tom's shai’pness of vision, by the 
promptitude with which I obeyed his order, and the 
sudden lifting of the fog. 

But are we saved ? There are rocks to the right of 
us, rocks to the left of us, some white, others red, yet 
all of great height, with splintered, fantastic pinnacles 
and broken battlements like the keeps of so many ruined 
castles ; some as naked as an Alpine peak above the snow- 
line, others mantled with a luxuriant growth of greenery 
and pendant wild flowers, while the waves leap up their 
sides and troops of sea-birds wheel round their summits. 
A veritable labyrinth of rocks; and as I look up after 
the first shock of surprise, I see inscribed on one of 
them, in old-fashioned and bold yet worn characters, 
these startling words : 

“ Here the Santa Anna — 

“ 1744 .” 

There seems to be another word, but being covered 
with a spray of ivy, I cannot make it out. Whether 
Bolsover sees the inscription I do not know. He is at 


PAINTED OE PIEBALD? 


128 


the bows, conning the ship, and I ana steering ; the pas- 
sage between the line of rocks being so narrow, and the 
current or tide so strong, that it requires most strenuous 
attention to avoid striking. More than once the yards 
scrape the brow of some beetling cliff, and only by 
Heaven^s help and old Tom's skilful pilotage do we 
escape utter destruction. 

At length the stress is over, and with an indescrib- 
able sense of thankfulness and relief we sail into open 
water. We can breathe freely. Danger and the dark sea 
are behind, hope and a harbour of refuge before us. We 
are in a wide, crescent-shaped bay, fringed with a shore of 
white sand, from which rises, in gentle slopes, a glorious 
mountain, on whose summit waves a cloud-banner, 
which at first sight I mistake for the smoke of a 
volcano. 

Save for the white limestone crags with which it is 
crowned, the mountain is clad with verdure from top to 
bottom. Field alternates with forest ; I can distinguish 
roads, too, and here and there is a quaint house of wood, 
not unlike the chalets that lend so great a charm to the 
valleys of Switzerland and the Tyrol. 

All this, of course, through a binocular. We are 
still too far off to see much with the naked eye. 

Heaven only knows where we are," I said to Tom, 
who by this time had come aft. ** But it seems a 
civilised sort of place. No danger of our being killed 
and eaten, I think." 

Not a bit. Cannibals don't build houses or make 


124 


A QUEER RACE. 


roads like tkem there. I wonder whether it^s an island 
or a continent? Anyhow, it is well protected. That 
line of reefs stretches from one point of the bay to the 
other. It is a miracle how we got through. If the 
fog had not lifted just when it did — and it did not lift 
much — we should have gone to everlasting smash. We 
came out of it ; that was it. Look there I 

It was true. Beyond the barrier rocks the mist 
still rested on the sea, looking in the distance like 
a chain of billowy mountains. 

^‘The tide — or maybe it^s a current — is running 
fast,^^ said the boatswain, a few minutes later. ^^I 
wonder whether we are in soundings? I will heave 
the lead, and if we are, we must make ready to let 

He had evidently not seen the inscription on the 
white rock ; and it was quite as well. He would have 
been able to think of nothing else. 

By all means,^^ I answered. It would never do 
to run aground, and there is not much chance of getting 
a pilot, I fear.^^ 

Whereupon Tom took the lead, and went into the 
chains. When he came back he reported that the depth 
was nine fathoms, the bottom sandy, and -the water 
rapidly shoaling. He thought that, to be on the safe 
side, we should let go at once, though we were 
still three or four miles from the nearest part of the 
coast. 

To this I of course agreed, for in matters of seaman- 


FAINTED OR PIEBALD? 


126 


ship I always deferred to Bolsover^s opinion ; and five 
minutes afterwards the Diana was riding at anchor, her 
stern towards the land, her stem towards the rocks. 

** How about going ashore ? ” I asked. Can we 
lower a boat ? ** 

I think so; and if it comes to that, wamust. But 
wait a bit; there^s no hurry. Maybe some on “^em 
— natives or what not — will be coming off to us.^' 

* All right, ril run below, put on a clean shirt, and 
make myself presentable.’* 

As you like, sir. But as for me, I shall take no 
such trouble. I shall do well enough as I am. I don't 
suppose the people of this countiy are of much account 
— niggers or greasers, or summat o* that sort. They 
(.lon't wear no clothes — not they; and they are sure to 
speak some confounded outlandish lingo that nobody 
understands but themselves." 

Though we had survived the dangers of almost 
perilous voyage, escaped death as by a miracle, and 
brought the Diana to a safe anchorage, poor old Tom 
was evidently in an unhappy frame of mind. It was 
easy to guess the reason. We had seen nothing of the 
treasure-ship, nor any sign of her, and for several rea- 
sons 1 did not think the time had yet come to make 
mention of the writing on the rock. 

When I returned to the deck, feeling all the better 
for a good wash and fresh rig-out, Tom was peering hard 
through his glass. 

There's a boat putting off,'^ he said ; a biggish 


126 


A qUEEK race. 


boat with a lateen sail, and a crew of six or eight men 
— custom-house chaps, of course ; for you may be cock- 
sure of one thing : if a country hasn^t as much trade as 
would keep a colony of fleas, it is sure to have custom- 
houses — for, you see, if custom-houses isn't trade, thpy 
looks like it/^ 

I took a glass and had a look on my own account. 
The boat was under way, and evidently, making for the 
Diana; but owing to the lightness of the breeze and the 
flowing tide, the lateen sail did not seem to be of much 
use, and the crew were taking to their oars, which they 
appeared to handle with great dexterity. But I gave less 
heed to the boat and her management than to the people 
she carried. I burnt with curiosity to know where we 
were and what like of people we had fallen amongst; 
and I thought that I might possibly gather some idea of 
their characters, perhaps even of their nationality, from 
the personal appearance of the boaVs occupants. 

At any rate, they were clothed ; .so far, so good. 
Houses, roads, boats, garments — all these were unmis- 
takable signs of civilisation. 

‘‘ Blacks, by sang out Tom, who, albeit older 

than 1, had not dimmed his sight by bending -over a 
desk 

Nonsense ! They are dark, perhaps ; but certainly 
not black; and those two men in the stern are certainly 
white. 

It looks so ; but we cannot surely have got to the 
West Indies, nor yet to the Brazils. . . And you are 


PAINTED OR PIEBALD? 


127 


wrong; they are not white, and the others are not 
black/' 

What on earth are they, then ? ” 

^^They are By the Lord Harry! they are 

spotted — every man-jack of ’em. Those chaps in the 
stern are white and red ; and them as is rowing, red 
and black." 

And Tom dropped his glass and gave me a look so 
coniically expressive of fear, bewilderment, and surprise, 
that I laughed outright. 

'^What can they be?" I asked; for though my 
vision was less keen than his, I could see that the people 
in the boat had very queer complexions. 

“ Cannibals — savages in their war-paint. Nothing 
else. And they’ll eat us, too, if they get a chance. But 
I’m not going to be eaten if I can help it, Mr. Erie. 
We’ll sell our lives dearly — we will that. There’s arms 
in the captain’s cabin. Let us load- them at once. And 
those old carronades" (two brass pieces we had for firing 
signals), we’ll load them, too. I know where the 
cartridges are." 

But we have no ball." 

Never mind ; we’ll charge them with old nails and 
bits of iron." 

‘^Very well. Do so, then. We may as well be 
prepared. But, for my part, I cannot say that I have 
any great fear of these painted people. ‘ At any rate, it 
is better to speak them fair before we show fight." 

‘‘ Speak ’em fair 1 What’s the use of speaking fair 


128 


A qUEER RACE. 


— or foul either, for that matter — to a lot of savage 
devils as can’t understand a word you say ? As soon as 
they get within shooting distance they^ll let fly a harrow 
at your head — unless you are beforehand with ^em. 
I’ve been among such-like in the Pacific, and I know. 
However, you stop here and watch ’em, Mr. Erie, and 
I’ll get the arms ready.” 

The boat came on apace, and the nearer she drew, the 
more puzzled I became. The rowers being naked to 
the waist, I naturally saw a good deal of them; but 
whether they were red men dabbed with black, or black 
fellows dabbed with red, I was unable to determine, and 
as yet 1 could see little or nothing of their faces. Of the 
two men in the stern, however, I had a very fair view. 
Their faces were queer, very queer. The elder of them 
seemed to have a reddish eye and a white one ; and 
the left cheek of the other differed in colour from the 
right. As the eldei' turned his head, moreover, I per- 
ceived that he sported a pigtail. Their coats, of some 
dark material, were large and roomy, and adorned with 
brass or gold buttons ; their nether garments were 
white ; and, to crown all, they wore cocked hats, such 
as I had seen nowhere but in old-fashioned pictures and 
on the stage. 

The pigtail suggested China, but it was impossible 

that we could have drifted as far as the Flowery Land 

and the Celestials don’t wear white breeches and cocked 
hats. Then it struck me that these were wild people, 
after all, who had obtained their strange costumes from 


PAINTED OR PIEBALD? 


129 


the plunder of a ship, or by way of trade; for I knew 
that savages like nothing so well as to array them- 
selves in grotesque finery. But, no I Those roads and 
houses I And the rowers boasted no finery whatever; 
and somehow, notwithstanding their painted faces, the 
two men in the stern had not the air of savages. 

I gave it up, and awaited the denouement with eager 
curiosity. 


f 


CHAPTER XIV. 

ENGLISH, BY JINGOl*^ 

In the meantime Bolsover had brought up a couple of 
rifles and a supply of cartridges, and was now charging 
the carronades. 

What is the use of that ? I said. They are 
mounted on wooden carriages; you cannot depress 
them.^^ 

^^Well, then, theyTl frighten the beggars, and 
maybe make ^em sheer off. They kick up a devil of a 

row, these carronades. . . . By ! they are not 

above a thousand yards away. I think I could pick the 
first fellow off — him as is rowing stroke ” — taking up 
a rifle. 

'^Don^t be a fool, Tom,^^ I said, quietly. It would 
be the height of folly to make any sort of hostile 
demonstration — to show fight, I mean — until and unless 
we are quite sure that these men mean mischief. For 
Heaven^s sake, let us make friends of them if we can. 
If we make enemies of them we are done for. There 
are hundreds, perhaps thousands, more ashore, and we 
might as well try to fly as to get the ship out of the 
bay.'^ 

you like, sir. I look on you as my superior 


ENGLISH, BY JINGO ! ** 


131 


officer, and Tom Bolsover always obeys orders. But 
keep your weather eye open, for as sure as any of them 
painted devils puts their feet on deck we are dead 
men.^^ 

I made no answer. All my attention was concen- 
trated on the boat. When she came within hailing 
distance the man with the pigtail (who had been steer- 
ing) gave the tiller to his companion and stood up. He 
was tall, and wore a sword — so far as I could see, the 
only weapon in the boat. 

^^Good!^^ I thought. ''Their intentions mttst be 
peaceful.^* 

The man with the pigtail put his hand to his mouth. 

"What ship is that?^^ he asked, in a loud, clear 
voice, and with faultless pronunciation. 

"English, by Jingo I ** muttered Bolsover. "Boy and 
man, Tve been at sea two-and-thirty year, and so help 
me—; — ** 

" The Diana y bound from Liverpool to Monte Video, 

I answered. " What country is this ? " 

"We call it the Fair Island.”^^ 

" And the inhabitants ? 

" We call ourselves English.'^ 

By this time the boat is under the counter. 

"Will you come on board I say. "But wait a 
minute, and we will lower you a ladder.^^ 

"Thank you, we don’t need a ladder, says the 
younger man ; and clutching a rope which hangs over the 
ship^s side, he hauls himself up, and vaults over the 
I % 


132 


A QUEER RACE. 


bulwark with the agility of a professional acrobat. His 
companion follows suit, although a little more leisurely, 
doubtless owing to his greater age and somewhat heavier 
build. 

Then they draw themselves up to their full height, 
doff their cocked hats with a graceful sweep, and make 
a low bow. 

I return the salute in my best style, but the contrast 
between the manner of their coming on board, and 
their dignified bearing, their cocked hats, pigtails, white 
breeches, and mottled faces, is so exceedingly droll that 
I can hardly keep my countenance, while old Tom, 
almost exploding with suppressed laughter, bolts in- 
continently down the fore hatchway, where he can give 
free vent to his mirth without any breach of politeness. 

What especially tickled him (it certainly tickled 
me) is probably the fact that our affable and agile guests 
are not merely painted ; they are actually piebald. Their 
variegated hue is as much a part of themselves as their 
pigtails and their noses. 

Judging by the way they stare at me (after recover- 
ing their perpendicular), I excite their curiosity as much 
as they excite mine — which is perhaps quite as well, for 
their inspection gives me time to compose my counten- 
ance and recover my presence of mind. 

Your most obedient,'^ says the elder of my visitors, 
bowing again. 

Yours truly/^ I answer, bowing in return. 

Then another pause. 


ENGLISH, BY JINGO I 


183 


'^Welcome on board the Biana^ gentlemen," I add, 
for they look as if they expect me to say something 
more. It affords me infinite pleasure to make your 
acquaintance." 

(Not, perhaps, the very best thing to say in the cir- 
cumstances, but the best I can think of on the spur of 
the moment.) 

Your pleasure, sir, cannot be greater than ours," re- 
turns the senior piebald. Never before has anybody 
from the old home favoured the Fair Island with a visit. 
Our people, sir, will give you a warm welcome. Might 
I make so bold as to inquire to whom I have the honour 
of speaking ? " 

My name is Sidney Erie." 

" Mine is Waterlow Field. Allow me to introduce 
to you my friend and kinsman, Mr. Amyas Fane." 

I bow again ; so does Mr. Fane. 

** I presume you are the captain ? " asks Mr. Field. 
No ; I am only a passenger." 

** Ah, the captain is below, I suppose ? " 

Very much so. He is dead, and his body lies at 
the bottom of the sea." 

Poor fellow I And the mate ? " 

He also is dead. In fact, the boatswain and myself 
are the sole survivors of the Biana^s passengers and 
crew ; all the rest are dead." 

God bless me ! What did they die of ? " 

" Yellow fever." 

And you and the boatswain only are left I How 


184 


A QUEER RACE. 


terrible ! That was the boatswain who went to the fore 
part of the ship just now, I suppose ? ** 

" Yes. Old Tom ; and a right good fellow he is.^^ 

I am fflad to hear it. He seems also to be a merry 
fellow.’^ 

Merry ! Not particularly. Rather the reverse, in 
fact. Why do you think he is meriy 
" Because I hear him laughing.'^ 

Hear him laughing I Impossible I Why, he is 
down in the fo^castle, and we are on the poop.'^ 

“ Oh, yes ; I hear him quite distinctly. Do not 
you, Amyas ? 

Distinctly. He is talking to himself, too. What 
is it he says ? — listening attentively. ^ By the Lord 
Harry ! Boy and man, IVe been at sea two-and- 

thirty-year’ Now he laughs again; what at, I 

wonder ? ** 

There was no humbug about it. They really could 
hear a man talking in the forecastle — or perhaps they 
were clairvoyants ! 

'^Your sense of hearing is much more acute than 
mine ; I cannot hear a word,^^ I said. And then, feai- 
ing that our visitors might hear something to their 
disadvantage, I blew a call on my whistle, as I gener- 
ally did when I wanted Tom and he was out of earshot. 

'^You informed us just now that the Diana was 
bound from Liverpool to Monte Video. How, then, 
may I ask, did you find your way hither asked 
Mr. Field. 


ENGLISH^ BY JINGo! 


135 


did not find our way at all. The ship found 
it for us. We came by chance.^^ 

And you actually made the passage of the Painted 
Rocks in safety ! That was indeed an extraordinary 
chance. No sea-going ship ever did the like. But you 
shall tell us your story on another occasion. We are 
come, my dear sir, to ask you to accompany us to Fair- 
haven, the modest capital of the Fair Island, there to 
make the acquaintance of our people and be presented 
to our Queen."^' 

''You do me too much honour, gentlemen; I shall 
only be too delighted. You will go with me, of course, 
Tom ? (He had just come aft.) 

“ Where you goes, I go, Mr. Erie. I am ready. 
But, Isay ” — sotto voce — "did you ever? Boy and 
man, IVe been at sea two-and-thirty year ” 

This would not do at all. People who could hear a 
laugh as far off as the forecastle could hear a whisper 
six feet away ; so, in order to avoid any cause of offence, 
I turned from Bolsover, and, asking our piebald friends 
if they smoked, offered each of them a cigar, which, 
after saying they were extremely "obleeged” to me, 
they accepted. 

" Have you a light, Tom ? ” I said. " I am afraid 
I left my box below.” 

" Of course I have,^^ answered the boatswain. And 
taking a match from his waistcoat pocket, he lifted up 
his leg and struck it on his trousers. 

" Angels and ministers of grace defend us I ” 


136 


A Qf'KEll MCK. 


exclaimed Ml*. J^^eld, turning pale and starting backward, 
while his companion made a still more rapid retreat, 
clapping his hand on the bulwark as if he were preparing 
to Jump into the sea. “ Magic ! Mr. Bolsover must be 
a wizard. Does he always carry fire in — in — that par- 
ticular part of his person ? 

Oh dear no ! I answered, laughing. He only 
struck a match. A little splinter of wood, you see. 
The substance at the end is a mixture of phosphorus 
and some other chemical substances, which ignites when 
slightly rubbed. Do it again, Tom.” 

Tom did it again. 

'■ Marvellous ! exclaimed the senior, examining a 
match. " A recent invention, I presume. The progress 
of enlightenment! Ah I ah! Would you kindly let 
me try ? ” 

I said yes, of course, and sent Tom for more matches, 
as well as vestas and fusees, and showed how they were 
struck on the boxes ; Init both Mr. Field and his friend 
preferred the boatswain^s method, and proceeded to 
practise it forthwith. They had, however, a slight diffi- 
culty to contend with in the extreme smoothness of 
their neth(‘r garments, which rendered necessary in the 
act of striking a rapid movement of the right hand. 
At the outset they failed somewhat ignominiously. 
The elder gentleman raised his leg rather too high, and, 
striking at the same time, lost his balance, and falling 
against Mr. Fane (who had also his leg in the air), both 
rolled on the deck together, rather to the discomfiture 


“ENGLISH, BV JlNGOp^ 

of the senior ; but the younger man laughed heartily, 
and they were up again before you could have said 
Jack Robinson/^ springing to their feet without using 
their hands. 

After this I gave each of them a box, which they 
accepted with unaffected delight. Then I produced a 
revolver, and fired several shots in rapid succession ; but, 
though the weapon both surprised and delight<Ml them, 
and they remarked how useful it would be in warfare, 
they were evidently less impressed with it than they 
had been by the striking of the match on old Tom's 
trousers. 

Have you any other arms on board ? " asked 
Field — as I thought, rather anxiously. 

^'Not many rifles and revolvers — perhaps a dozen 
of each. They belonged to the captain and passengers. 
But I think there are a few cases of muskets in 
the hold." 

And ammunition ? " 

''Well, we have a very miscellaneous cargo, and I 
believe I heard the captain say there was gunpowder in 
it. I don't know how much ; but I can easily find out 
by looking at the manifest." 

With that I went into the cabin, and returned with 
the document in question. 

" Yes," I said, looking at it There are ten barrels 
in the magazine," 

" We will buy it from you," he returned, eagerly. 
Indeed, I think we should be disposed to buy 


138 


A qUEEH RACE. 


from you the whole of the cargo — possibly the ship 
itself.^^ 

^'They are not mine to sell/^ I answered, rather 
taken aback by this suggestion. ^'All the same, the 
ship is here without any possibility, so far as I can 
see, of getting away. I have a right to do the 
best I can for the owners and underwriters, and 
you may have anything the ship contains, or all she 
contains.^^ 

This was making a virtue of necessity; for if the 
piebald people thought fit to appropriate every article on 
board, it was evident that old Tom and I could do 
nothing to hinder them. 

'^Whatever we take we shall give you full value 
for, either in gold or pearls,^^ said Mr. Field. 

This was satisfactory, so far as it went ; and it was 
interesting to know that the piebalds possessed gold and 
pearls; but how I could turn them to account in that 
outlandish place, or how I should get back to Liverpool, 
did not seem quite clear. Nevertheless, I thanked Mr. 
Field warmly for his obliging assurance, and added that 
I should leave the matter entirely in his hands (again 
making a virtue of necessity). 

It is not in my hands,^^ he observed, gravely ; 
“ I speak only as an individual member of the 
council ; yet I have no doubt that my colleagues 
and Queen Mab will gladly profit by the oppor- 
tunity which you so kindly place at their disposal 
And now, my dear sir, if it be quite agreeable to you. 


139 


** ENGLISH, BY JINGO P' 

vve will get into the boat and shape our course for 
Fairhaven/' 

Desiring nothing better, I answered promptly 
in the affirmative. My appetite was whetted with 
what I had seen and heard, and I was eager to know 
more of the queer race to whose remote home I had 
drifted. 


CHAPTER XV. 


FAIE ISLAND. 

Tom and I went down the side by a rope ladder^ taking 
with us, at Mr. Field^s request, a rifle and a revolver; 
Fane and he went down as they had come up. The 
strength and activity displayed by the younger man were 
really marvellous. Without apparent effort, he swung 
himself over the bulwark by one hand, seized a rope 
with the other, and dropped into the boat as lightly as 
a monkey. He was about the finest, perhaps the very 
finest, specimen of the genus homo I had yet seen. 
Though I stand six feet in my stockings, he ovei topped 
me by three inches ; his chest development was quite 
phenomenal, and his long arms were as muscular as a 
horse's leg. His features, too, were good, and but for 
the queerness of his complexion I should have considered 
him handsome ; afterwards, when piebald skins ceased 
to be a novelty, I did consider him handsome. He had 
a broad, though rather low forehead, short black hair, 
large dark eyes, the whites being singularly clear, an 
aquiline nose, small mouth, and square, resolute jaws. 
His head, albeit hardly large enough for his broad 
shoulders and lofty stature, was shapely, and well 
set on he carried himself magnificently, and his 


FAIR ISLAND. 


141 


movements were as lithe, as graceful, and as uncon- 
strained as those of any of the great felida. 

The contrast between him and the crew of the boat 
was both startling and painful. The six rowers were the 
most hideous creatures I had ever seen, even in a night- 
mare. Their predominating colour was deep black, 
dabbed with red and yellow patches in a singularly 
arbitrary and irregular fashion. Thus, one man had a 
red nose in the middle of an otherwise jet-black face. 
Another had a red mouth ; another, again — and I think 
he was the most horrible-looking of the lot — had red eye- 
lids and a red upper lip, all the rest of his vizard being 
of the deepest ebony. Add that the pupils of their eyes 
were indistinguishable from the iris, and the whites large 
and streaked with blood, their noses huge and flat, their 
mouths wide, with blubber, negro-like lips, their fore- 
heads narrow and tattooed, and that they wore bone rings 
in pendulous ears, and you may form some idea of the 
appearance of these Calibans (the name, as I afterwards 
heard, actually bestowed on them by the islanders). In 
stature they were rather short, yet less so than might 
seem, owing to the great width of their shoulders and 
the muscularity of their frames. Every man of them 
was a squat Hercules ; and their biceps, as they rowed, 
swelled out to the size of cocoanuts. 

These beauties evidently occupied a very inferior 
position. I observed that Field and Fane never spoke 
to them except to give them orders, and always in a tone 
of harshness that jarred painfully on my feelings, for, 


142 


A QUEER RACE. 


Ugly and degraded as the men seemed, they were at 
least human. 

With six oars and the lateen sail (for the wind now 
served), we went swiftly through the water; but instead 
of making for the nearest part of the coast, as I expected 
he would. Fane (who took the helm) steered the boat up 
the middle of the bay, and in the direction^ of a headland 
some four or five miles north of the Diana. The coast 
was thickly wooded, and the character of the vegetation 
— the palms, magnolias, and vines, the height and ver- 
dure of the trees, and the brilliancy of the flowers 
— showed that the Fair Island possessed a mild and 
equable climate ; that it was far enough from the 
pole to escape severe winters, yet near enough to the 
tropics to enjoy long summers and plenty of sun- 
shine. 

I fancied we were about thirty to forty degrees south 
of the equator ; but this was pure conjecture, and neither 
Field nor Fane seemed disposed to give me much in- 
formation on the subject. 

What was the Diana’s position when you took your 
last observation ? ” asked Field, in reply to a question I 
put as to our whereabouts. 

That is weeks — months since,^^ I said. The last 
observation was taken by poor Bucklow. Neither 
Bolsover nor I understands navigation.^^ 

So much the better — I mean, it is probably no great 
loss in the circumstances. You will perhaps learn more 
of the geography of the Fair Island later on. We shall 


PAIR ISLAND. 


]43 


Bee. However, I may tell you tliis much — ^you are south 
of the equator.'^ 

Thank you/' I said, laughing. I guessed as 
much." 

But I failed to guess why he was so reticent on the 
point. What objection he could have to telling me where 
we were, I was unable to conceive. He was equally re- 
served about everything that concerned the history of 
the island and its inhabitants. To my questions on the 
subject he returned evasive answers, and at last shut me 
up by saying that if I stayed long enough I should 
doubtless get to know all about them, and that it was 
a very long story, which at present it was quite im- 
possible for him to tell. 

About the island and its productions he was, how- 
ever, more communicative. It contained some four 
hundred thousand acres — that is to say, it was about four 
times the size of the Isle of Wight. The population 
might be twenty or thirty thousand, though, as it was a 
long time since there had been a count, he could not be 
quite sure. The soil was very fertile, as I could see ; 
and thanks to the mountain (mountain par excellence^ 
there being no other), which enabled the inhabitants to 
vary their climate at pleasure, they had a great variety 
both of cereals and of fruit. The valleys and plains 
near the sea produced maize, yams, cotton, sugar-canes, 
oranges, grape-vines, peaches, and pomegranates ; higher 
up grew wheat, potatoes, apples, and cherries. 

Mr. Field further informed me that, with the 


144 


A QUEER RACE. 


(exception of a narrow gap on the western side^the Painted 
Rocks extended all round the island, and that the mist 
through which we had sailed was a permanent institu- 
tion. 

We think it is caused by a meeting of currents — 
one hot and the other cold,’^ he said. " Anyhow, it is 
always there, and the mist and the rocks safeguard our 
island home far more effectually *than a line of forts.'^ 
^^Yes,^^ I said, ^^you may bombard a fort, but you 
would have to shoot a long time at that fog before you 
made any impression on it ; and those rocks would defy 
all the ironclads in Europe. By-the-by, what does that 
inscription, something about the Santa Anna and 1744, 
mean ? 

Ah ! you saw that, did you ? It is merely the 
name of a vessel that was wrecked there. Some day we 
will have a cruise among the Painted Rocks, and you will 
find other records of the same sort. Several vessels have 
left their bones thereabouts. As I told you, the Diana 
is the only ship that ever got safely through, for which 
you may thank your stars; and though, as I was saying, 
there is a gap on that side, pointing westward, a wide 
stretch of sandbanks, shoals, and hidden coral reefs 
render navigation, except for very light craft, piloted 
by men who know the coast, almost impossible.'^ 

So, one way and another, you are pretty secure 
from intrusion ? " 

So much so, that you and Mr. Bolsover will be the 
first strangers our people of this generation have seen." 


FAIR IStiA.VD. 


146 


By this time we had rounded the headland. It 
divided the large bay fi-om the smaller one, which 
seemed to run a long way inland, and terminate in a 
river or creek. Its sides were lofty and picturesque, 
with lateral openings into romantic little valleys ; and 
here and there a silvery stream, overarched with trees, 
shot arrow-like into the sea. 

'' There ! That is Fairhaven ! exclaimed Mr. Field, 
when we were about halfway up the inlet, at the same 
time pointing to a commanding eminence on the north- 
west side of the mountain. 

Looking through my binocular, I could make out a 
number of buildings scattered over a wide expanse of 
ground, and rising one above the other, much after the 
fashion of a Swiss Alpine village. 

Mab is back, Field,'' said F'ane, gazing in the same 
direction. 

The flag is flying, is it? Ah, your eyes are 
younger than mine, Amyas." 

I glanced at them inquiringly. 

Look at the large house which stands a little way 
from the others, near a grove of acacia trees, and sur- 
rounded by a garden," said Fane. 

Yes ; I have found it." 

“ Well, the flag you see flying above the verandah 
signifies that Queen Mab is at home." 

But I don't see any flag," I said, straining my eyes, 
and altering the focus of my binocular. 

Is it possible that I see better with the naked eye 
K 


146 


A QUEER RACE. 


than you see with your spy-glass? May I? Thank 
you/' 

It would seem so/^ I said, handing him the 
binocular, and showing him how to adjust the focus. 

After trifling with it a few minutes, he gave it me 
back. 

It certainly brings things a little nearer,^' he said. 
*‘A11 the same, I can see quite as well without it as 
with it. I fear I should find a spy-glass rather a useless 
encumbrance.^' 

This incident set me wondering whether my con- 
ductors' keenness of vision, acuteness of hearing, strength 
of limb, and monkey-like agility were peculiar to them- 
selves, or common to all the inhabitants of the island. 

After awhile, I squinted through my binocular 
again, albtot I felt that the act was a somewhat painful 
confession of physical inferiority. 

Mr. Pane was quite right. I could now, being a 
mile or so in arer, plainly distinguish a flag flying from 
the roof of the hous^ in which, as I presumed, dwelt 
the island queen. 

But how we were to reach the place did not seem 
quite clear, for shortly afterwards the creek began to 
trend in the opposite direction. When I asked Field, 
he smiled, and said — 

Wait a few minutes, and you will see." 

The few minutes brought us to a point where the 
stream divided into two branches, one of which forked 
off to the right, the other to the left. W^e followed the 


FAIR ISLAND. 


147 


latter, which, after ruDDing for a mile or more between 
high banks, widened into a beautiful lagoon, or, rather, 
fairy lakelet. In shape it was oval, and at its widest 
part about five miles across. Its shelving shores were 
laid out in orange groves and flower-gardens; richly 
plumed birds skimmed its waters, as clear as crystal, 
and as blue as the heavens; gaily painted boats rode 
lazily at anchor, while others, trimming their wing-like 
sails, floated leisurely towards a channel which seemed 
to wind round the base of the mountain. ^ 

It had been rightly called Fairhaven. Except in 
Italy and Switzerland, I had seen nothing with which 
it could be compared. It was as gracious as Como, as 
romantic as the Lake of the Four Cantons ; and though 
the landscape may have lacked the grandeur of the 
Alps, the richness of the flora, the proximity of the 
ocean, and the rugged crest of the mountain, emerging 
from a mass of verdure and diademed with a silvery 
cloud, gave this part of the Fair Island a beauty all its 


own. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


QUEEN MAB. 

• We landed in a little cove from which a steep zigzag 
path, winding among great cedars and towering palm- 
trees, led t^ the town — so steep, that being out of 
condition with our long life at sea, Tom and I found 
some difficulty in keeping up with our companions, 
who could hardly have walked faster if we had been 
competing for a prize. We two were continually 
lagging behind, and more than once Fane gave us a 
look which expressed both pity and contempt, as if he 
thought us very poor creatures indeed. This riled 
me exceedingly, and I did my utmost to overtake him ; 
but he was in splendid fettle ; the more I strove the 
faster he went, and when after a fifteen minutes^ spurt 
we reached the town, I was completely blown and bathed 
with perspiration, while he was not even flushed, and 
breathed as quietly as an infant. I began to dislike 
Mr. Amy as Fane. 

As for poor old Tom, we had left him half a mile 
behind, dead-beat, sitting on a stone, and mopping his 
face with an ancient bandana pocket-handkerchief. 

The town — village, rather, though it was the capital 
of the island and the seat of royalty — consisted of two 


QUEEN M^B. 


149 




or three hundred wooden houses. Some of them were 
rude in the extreme, being little more than log huts ; 
others were larger and more pretentious, built of boards, 
with verandahs and external galleries, and brightly 
painted. All were thatched, and being more or less 
mantled with greenery and begirt with gardens, the 
general effect was gay and picturesque. 

In the centre of the village was a large square, on 
one side of which stood the church, distinguished by a 
wooden tower, and on the other a still larger building, 
known as Government House, used for meetings, public 
offices, and the like. 

All the people we met were more or less piebald. 
Some bore a general resemblance to my companions, 
others were of the same type as the boatmen whom I 
have already described. 

At last we reached the house where the flag was 
flying. It was the largest I had yet seen. Thatched, 
like all the rest, it had several high-pitched gables, and 
a wide porch with overhanging eaves. An open gallery 
ran round the building at the level of the upper storey. 
Beneath the gallery was a verandah, su]>ported by 
wooden pillars and festooned with vines. 

A narrow path, winding between dwarf palm-trees 
and rhododendrons in full bearing, led up to the porch. 

Two or three young women, with mottled com- 
plexions, were sitting in the verandah. One was read- 
ing, another knitting, a third seemed to be spinning 
something with a distaff ; but as 1 had never seen 




150 


A QUEER RACE. 


anybody spin with a distaff, I could not be quite sure. 
These young women were all tall, well formed, and 
extremely graceful in their movements, for which their 
somewhat airy and easy-fitting garments offered every 
facility, and their sandalled feet were innocent of hosen. 

After greeting them gravely and courteously (an 
example that Tom and 1 were careful to follow), Mr. 
Field inquired if she ** was in. 

On receiving an answer in the affirmative from the 
maiden who seemed to be most in authority, he requested 
her to announce him and his companions, and ask 
whether it would please the queen to receive us. The 
maiden bowed compliance, entered the house by the 
porch, and in two minutes came back to say that her 
mistress had been waiting for us all the afternoon with 
the greatest impatience, and that we were to go in at 
once; whereupon our conductors, beckoning Tom and 
me to follow them, went in without further ceremony. 

The porch opened into a wide vestibule, at the end of 
which was a door. We crossed the vestibule together, 
and on reaching the door Mr. Field gave a sharp knock 
with his knuckles. 

Come in ! answered a low and musical, yet, as I 
thought, a somewhat peremptory voice. 

After you,^^ said Field to me, opening the door. 

I obeyed him without hesitation, though not without 
trepidation, for my education in the etiquette of Courts 
having been somewhat neglected, I had not the least 
idea what was the right thing to do in the circumstances 


s 


qUEEN MAB. 


151 


— whether I should enter on bended knee, kiss the 
Queen^s hand, speak first, or wait until I was spoken to. 

I had, moreover, an idea (one does get strange ideas 
sometimes) that her majesty was likely to be a crabbed old 
woman with a fat body and a sharp tongue. However, 
in I went — walked into the middle of the room (rather 
a large one) with as much composure as I could muster 
• — and then stopped short in mute surprise. 

At an open casemate, which commanded a view of 
the. mountain, the lake, and sea, sat a young woman 
reading a book with an ancient binding much the worse 
for wear. At her feet crouched an animal which at 
first sight I took for a huge mastiff ; but when the 
creature rose to its feet, showed a row of fierce-looking 
teeth, and wagged a tail about a yard long, I saw that 
it was a wild beast, and, if not a lion or a lioness, mv 
commonly like one. 

Don’t be alarmed,^^ said Queen Mab, pleasantly ; 
"it is only my pet puma; he is not used to strangers. 
Down, Cato ! 

Whereupon Cato resumed his recumbent position, 
greatly to my relief. 

" Mr. Erie, a passenger by the Diana^ the ship that 
anchored in the bay this morning, announced Mr. 
Field. 

" Welcome to Fair Island ! ” said the Queen, rising 
from her chair and offering me her hand. 

I took the hand and kissed it — a proceeding which 
nobody appeared to expect, for Mr. Field made a gesture 


162 


A QUKKR T5ACF,. 


of surprise aud Mr. Amyas Fane scowled. The Queen, 
however, seemed in no way displeased. She smiled, 
bowed graciously, and then regarded me earnestly and 
curiously. I returned the look with interest ; I could 
not help it. I should have done the same had she been 
ten royal personages rolled into one. 

Never was woman better worth looking at than 
Queen Mab. She was within two inches of my own 
height, beautifully proportioned and faultlessly shaped. 
A tight-fitting dress of some dark glossy material set off 
her form to the best advantage. Round her waist was 
a pearl-studded girdle ; she wore a necklace to match, 
and each of her arms was encircled with a curiously 
wrought bracelet of gold. Her face was, moreover, 
white, and her complexion pure. A mass of black curls 
rested like a coronet on a broad and noble brow, and her 
flashing, gipsy-like eyes, slightly aquiline features, firm 
mouth, and broad chin, bespoke at once intelligence, 
high courage, and strength of will. 

Yet, kind as Nature had been to the islaini Queen, 
she evidently belonged to the same queer race as her 
people. Though her face was white (comparatively, for 
she was a decided brunette), the lower parts of her neck 
and throat were hued with bronze; so also were her 
arms and one of her feet ; for, like, the maidens in the 
verandah, she wore neither sleeves nor stockings. 

But as I had already found out, there was a marked 
difference between the piebald of the women and the 
piebald of the men. As touching the latter, the copper-* 


qUEEN MAB. 


153 


coloured spots were, so to speak, stamped on a white 
ground, and clearly defined;' but with the women it 
was otherwise ; the two shades blended into each other; 
you could not say where the one ended and the other 
began, and the more obtrusive colour was less prominent 
and glaring. It should be observed, too, that none of 
the adjectives I have used for the purpose describe this 
colour exactly. I have called it ^^red^’’ and coppery; 
it might with equal accuracy be defined as cinnamon,’^ 
as all three, in fact; for the piebalds vary as widely in 
the colour of their epidermis as the so-called white races 
of Europe and North America. As for Queen Mab, 
though she certainly looked bizarre ^ I thought then, and 
I think still, that the peculiar tint of her neck rendered 
her all the more striking and picturesque. At any rate, 
it made an admirable setting for the brilliant pearl 
necklace which adorned her throat and the white and 
crimson orchids which she wore at her breast. 

“ Excuse me for looking at you so curiously,^^ she 
said, after our mutual inspection had lasted a couple of 
minutes, but you are the first really white man and 
the first Englishman I have seen/^ 

^^We are all English,'^ put in Fane, abruptly — 
almost rudely, indeed. 

We are pleased to think so, and we are of English 
blood; but you cannot deny that it is rather mixed. 
There is a good deal of difference between you and 
Mr. Erie, for instance.^’ 

You are right. He is not quite so tall, nor. 


] 


A qUEEE RACE. 


perhaps, quite so strong. He is near-sighted, and hard 
of hearing, and so short-winded that it was all he could 
do to walk up the hill from the lake.’' 

I was deeply stung by this insolence, all the more so 
as it was impossible in the circumstances'to resent it as 
it deserved. 

So would you be short-winded if you had been four 
months at sea, and gone through what I have gone 
through," I said, warmly. But wait " 

You forget where you are and to whom you are 
speaking, Amy as," interposed the Queen, severely. 

Remember that Mr. Erie is our guest ; and as for 
shortness of sight — well, sharp eyes are quite compatible 
with a shallow mind." 

Mr. Fane collapsed. 

** I infer from what you say, Mr. Erie, that your 
voyage has been an eventful one — that you have under- 
gone great hardships. I want you to tell me all about 
it, and how you discovered the Fair Island, and made 
the passage of the Painted Rocks. No ship ever did it 
before. When I saw you cast anchor in the bay this 
morning I could hardly believe my eyes." 

Willingly, your majesty. It is rather a sad story, 

but " Here her majesty broke into a merry laugh, 

Mr. Field seemed amused, and Fane smiled sardonically. 

Why do you say ' majesty ? ' " asked Mab, when 
she had done laughing. 

Because in addressing a crowned head it is the 
right thing to say. At least, I have always supposed 


QTJEEN MAB. 


155 


SO, though I freely admit I never spoke to a crowned 
head before, and know nothing of the etiquette of 
Courts/^ 

" Crowned head is good/^ said Mab, laughing 
again ; better than ^ majesty/ I think. But you are 
mistaken. I am neither a crowned head nor a 
majesty."^^ 

‘'Then these gentlemen misinformed me/^ I said, 
feeling both foolish and vexed. “They always speak of 
you as Queen — Queen Mab."^^ 

“So I am^^ — proudly — “in the sense that I am 
chief of the State, but that makes me neither a majesty 
nor a crowned head. There are neither crowns nor 
courtiers in Fair Island, and there is nothing I should 
more detest than to be addressed in terms of fulsome, 
and therefore insincere compliment. ' Majesty,^ indeed I 
But more of this another time. Your story, Mr. 
Erie ! I want to hear your story. Begin, please. 
But I am forgetting; you must be hungry. It is a 
long way from your ship hither.''^ 

And with that she crooked her forefinger, put it 
between her lips, and gave a low, musical whistle. 

The next moment the door opened, and one of the 
maidens whom we had seen on the verandah appeared at 
the threshold. 

“Order a refection to be served for these gentlemen 
an hour hence, said this queer Queen of a queer race. 
“ Now, Mr. Erie, pray begin ; and, if possible, make 
}’nnr tale last until the refection is ready.^^ 


156 


A QUEEE BACB. 


I obeyed ; and when I saw how much the account of 
my voyage interested ray listeners — above all the Queen, 
who never took her. eyes off me, and I am sure missed 
not a word — I told it in full, from start to finish, and as 
I warmed to my work I think I told it effectively, 
keeping back nothing save the incident of the chaplain^s 
manuscript, which, as I thought, belonged rather to 
Tom’s story than mine. 

Once or twice the two men made as if they would 
have interrupted me ; but Queen Mab stopped them 
with an imperious gesture. Until I had finished she 
would not suffer a word to be spoken, and then I was 
simply overwhelmed with questions. 

What did I mean by an auxiliary screw and getting 
up steam ? How could a ship move when there was no 
wind ? were among the first. 

I tried to explain ; but, as they were absolutely 
ignorant of the properties of steam, I had a difficulty 
in making my explanation clear. Mab, I could see, 
fully believed me ; but when I spoke of railways, loco- 
motives, steam-engines, and the rest. Field and Fane 
smiled incredulously. On this a bright thought struck 
me. 

Go with me on board the Diana, ” I said, and I 
will ship the screw and start the engine. There is coal 
enough in the bunker for a run round the bay. When 
that is done we must fire up with wood.^^ 

By all means,^’ exclaimed Mab. Yes, I will go 
on board, and then you can show me all these wonders. 


QUEEN MAB. 


157 


Only to think that ships can be made to move and 
carriages to run simply by boiling water! It seems 
almost 

Impossible 1 put in Fane. 

** No^ not impossible ; I am sure Mr. Erie tolls the 
truth. Say, rather, incomprehensible, and most passing 
strange. We have no right to disbelieve things merely 
because they are new and startling. But pray tell me, 
Mr. Erie, whether there are any books on the Diana** 

“ Yes, a good many. Two or three hundred volumes, 
I should think.” 

'' Two or three hundred volumes ! Oh, how glad 
you make me I ** she exclaimed, fairly clapping her hands 
with joy. Books are better than steam-engines ; and 
wo have so few books, and those we have are almost in 
pieces. See this copy of ^ Shakespeare ! * ** — holding up 
the volume she had been reading — it will hardly hold 
together; my ^Plutarch'^s Lives ^ and ‘ Paradise Lost ^ 
are in the same evil case, and poor * Robinson Crusoe * 
has almost ceased to exist. We have several works in 
manuscript, and I am having more copied; but paper is 
not plentiful in Fair Island. Think you there is any 
on the Diana?** 

Some, certainly ; perhaps a great deal. Our cargo 
is miscellaneous, and paper is largely exported from 
England.^^ 

England ! Ah 1 I shall want to know much about 
England, Mr. Erie. I shall tire you with my questions ; 
I am sTare I shall. But, here is Marian, to say the 


158 


A qUEEU llACB. 


refection is served ; and after so much talking you cannot 
fail to be hungry.’^ 

As Mab spoke she rose from her chair. I rose also, 
and offered her my arm, which, after a momentary hesi- 
tation, she took. I guessed, from her manner and the 
looks of the two piebald gentlemen, that I had done 
something unusual. But as it did not seem that Mab 
took the attention amiss, I could easily dispense with 
their approval. 

The refection was set out in the next room on a 
table which, like everything else about the place, was 
evidently of home manufacture. The pottery was 
equally rude ; the display of glass scanty, and of ancient 
fashion and shape. The forks were wooden-handled and 
two-pronged ; the knives bore a strong resemblance to 
butchers’ whittles ; but, strange to say, the plates were 
of silver, and we drank our Adam’s wine — Queen Mab 
offered us nothing stronger — out of goblets of gold. 
The viands w^ere abundant and well cooked. We had 
soup, fish, and fowl, yams and potatoes, savoury pies and 
sweetmeats, with fruit in great variety and abundance ; 
but neither beef, mutton, nor pork. Our hostess took 
the head of the table ; I sat at her right hand. Field at 
her left, and old Tom sat opposite young Fane. The 
boatswain did not seem to be enjoying himself much. 
He w'^as not used to ladies’ society, poor fellow, and de- 
tested cold water. I am sure he would have preferred 
a meal of lobscouse and plum duff on board the Diana, 
washed down with a glass of half-water grog, to the 


QUEEN MAB. 


159 


finest refection anybody could set before him . The Queen 
tried in vain to set him at his ease and draw him out. 
She only succeeded in overawing him. But she made 
one more effort. 

'^Won^t you take an orange, Mr. Bolsover?^’ she 
said, offering him one with her own hand. It is a 
very fine one, grown in my own garden, and pickea by 
myself.^^ 

Take it, Tom 1 ** I said, seeing that he hesitated. 

Thank you kindly, ma'^am,'’’’ he answered, stretch- 
ing out his arm to receive the proffered gift. 

My God I What is this she exclaimed, dropping 
the orange and seizing the arm. What is this ? 
^ Santa Anna, 1744,' and the figure of a ship! How, 
when, where — what means it ? Tell me, what means 
it?" 

All looked at her in blank surprise. Old Tom seemed 
thunderstruck, and could answer nothing. 

‘^What means it?" repeated the Queen. “How 
came this inscription on your arm ? I want to know." 

The boatswain, still speechless, pointed to me. 

“ This man appears to have lost his senses," she said, 
turning to me. “ Will you be good enough to tell me, 
Mr. Erie ? — at once, if you please." 


CHAPTER XVII. 


A REVKLATION. 

Queen Mab evidently intended to be obeyed; and as 
'roni'’s craze and the chaplain’s narrative were no secret, 
and I found myself in the presence of a mystery which I 
was as anxious to solve as herself, I willingly complied 
with her rather peremptory request. 

Do you happen to have that document with you, 
Tom?^^ I asked him. 

“No ; it is in my locker, aboard the Biana^ 

“ Well, I have read it so carefully and so often that 
I know it nearly as well as I know Lloyd^s Register, So 
to begin at the beginning.^^ 

And then I told them of the elder Bolsover finding 
the tin case at the Azores, and gave almost as full an 
account of Mr. Ilare^s diary as if I had read it aloud. 
Out of consideration for Tom^s feelings I said no more 
about his craze than was necessary, only that he was 
fully persuaded that he should see the Santa Anna before 
he died, and find the treasure which he believed she con- 
tained. This remark concluded my second narrative, to 
which all had listened with bated breath. 

“ Mr. Bolsover has been cherishing an illusion, I am 
sorry to say,^^ said the Queen, after a short silence which 


A REVELATION. 


161 


she had obviously spent in deep thought. He will not 
see the Santa Anna, She perished more than a century 
ago ; and as for the gold and silver she had on board — 
well, the plates off which you have just dined, the 
goblets out of which you have drunk, are part of the 
galleon^s treasure ; but the bulk of it is still intact and 
in our possession.^^ 

Tom stared at her with a dazed look ; his face turned 
ashen grey, and his lips twitched convulsively. 

You don’t mean to say,” he said, hoarsely — you 
don’t mean to tell me as — as the Santa Anna foundered 
hereabouts and somebody else got the treasure? I 
won’t believe it I It can’t be true ! God ! it would 
be too hard — too hard — after all these years. No ; I 
won’t believe it I ” 

If the Santa Anna you mean is the Santa Anna of 
which Mr. Hare speaks in his diary,” said Mab, wonder- 
ingly and pityingly, ^^and which was captured by the 
Hecate in 174 1, there can be no question that she struck 
on the Painted Rocks in the same year ; that all the efforts 
of the crew to get her off failed ; and that she went to 
pieces a few weeks afterwards — not, however, before all 
her stores and all the treasure were taken out of her 
and landed on this island.” 

I don’t believe it ! I don’t believe it ! ” reiterated 
the boatswain. It cannot be true. You are making 
game of me! Say, now, you are making game of 
me 1 ” 

'^What mean you? Why should I make game of you?” 


J62 


A QUEEB BACB. 


asked the Queen, angrily. All that I have told you 
is on record. We have the log-books both of the Hecate 
and the Santa Anna. Mr. Hare did not die of the illness 
he was suffering from when he threw his diary into the 
sea ; he lived to be an old man, and died on this island. 
I can show you his grave. And the Mr. Fane he 
mentions, who took the command after Captain Barnaby^s 
death, was my great-great-grandfather, and the founder 
and Protector of this commonwealth.^^ 

^'Then IVe been defrauded I cried Tom, savagely, 
striking his fist on the table. ''That is what it is ; IVe 
been defrauded ! It^s me as should have found that 
treasure I It^s me ! I^^s me ! Haven^t I thought of 
it, and dreamt of it, and striven for it thirty years and 
more? Ay, they were right as called me Crazy Tom. I 
am crazy I I am crazy I and may God forgive them as 
has made me so ! 

And bowing his head on his hands, the poor old 
fellow wept aloud. 

"Why does the foolish man take on so?^^ asked 
Mab, who seemed equally distressed and surprised. 

He might have been visited with some terrible mis- 
fortune. It surely cannot be disappointed greed ? 

It is the shattering of a long-cherished delusion,^' 
I said. " The idea of finding the Santa Anna had be- 
come a part of his life.'’^ 

" And he has found her. At any rate, he has found 
out what became of her, and that is all he had any right 
to expect ; while as for the treasure, I shall be glad to 


A REVELATION. 


163 


g-ive him an ingot or two of golrl or a. few handfuls of 
(ioubloons.^^ 

have no gifts from nobody/'’ said the boatsw^ain, 
in a quavering voice. ^^If I had found it, all would 
have been mine ; but I would have shared and shared 
alike with Mr. Erie. Ain’t T speaking the truth, 
now? Didn’t we agree to share and share alike?'” 

Say no more now', Tom,” I said, soothingly. 

^vill talk the matter over to-morrow', and I hope you 
will see it in another light. Go into the garden and 
smoke your pipe.” 

Ay, ay, sir ! ” he muttered, and wdthout another 
word left the room, greatly to my relief, for I could see 
that the Queen was beginning to lose patience. 

These are strange stories you have told us, Mr. 
Erie,” she said, turning to me, and no less strange is 
the manner of your coming hither. It would almost 
seem as if Fate, or Fortune, or Providence had directed 
your course and sent you to the Fair Island for some 
purpose which is not yet clearly discernible. And no 
less strange than the story you have told me is the story 

which I am about to tell you Don’t shake your 

head, 'Waterlow Field. I shall tell Mr. Erie everything. 
He is a man of honour, and will neither abuse my con- 
fidence nor do aught to injure our people or compromise 
their safety. Besides, who knows? He may be persuaded 
to remain with us and give our commonwealth the 
benefit of his knowledge and experience ; and you must 
admit that we are sadly lacking in many things. If 
1 . % 


161 


A QUEEE RACE. 


isolation, has great ad vantages_, it has also serious draw- 
backs ! . . . But to my story. You must have already 
guessed, Mr. Erie, that we are the descendants of the 
Hecate^s crew ; indeed, I just now told you that Com- 
mander Fane was my great-great-grandfather. The 
Santa Anna struck against those very Painted Rocks 
through which you so marvellously threaded your 
way 

“Then the inscription I saw 

“ You saw the inscription ! That is the very place. 
It must be well-nigh obliterated by this time. We will 
have it renewed. Since the wreck of the Santa Anna 
several ships have been lost in the same place ; for 
the most part they went to pieces immediately, and 
their crews perished to a man. Yours is the only 
ship that ever got through, and you are the first born- 
Englishman who, since 1744, has landed on the island. 
. . . But if I go on at this rate I shall never finish my 
story, and I had perhaps better not attempt to finish it 
— at present. You shall read the log-books of the Hecate 
and the Santa Anna, also our records ; they have been 
well kept, and then afterwards — yes, that will be the 
better way — Mr. Field will place all the records at your 
disposal. Let him see everything, Mr. Field.'^ 

Mr. Field bowed acquiescence, and I said I should 
read the log-books and records with the greatest interest. 
After a few further remarks had been exchanged, I 
inquired if the Queen was still in the mind to pay her 
promised visit to the Liana, 


RBVELATIOH. 


165 

Certainly/^ she said, smiling-. " I am not in the 
habit of changing my plans except for good cause ; and 
I am most anxious to see your wonderful steam-engine, 
and, above all, those books. I fear I shall never be 
able to tear myself away from them. May I bring 
some back with me ? ” 

Of course. Have I not said that the Diana and 
all she contains are entirely at your disposal? But I 
shall have to precede you. It will take me an hour or 
two to get steam up ; and we shall require help to heave 
the anchor. The boatswain and I cannot do it alone.^^ 

• You shall have all the help you want. — See to it, 
Mr. Field, that Mr. Erle^s orders are as implicitly 
obeyed as if I gave them myself ; and give him and the 
boatswain quarters in your house.” 

On this he bowed again. Then the Queen gave me 
her hand, which I kissed as before, and withdrew with 
Field, leaving her alone with Fane, whom I now knew 
to be her kinsman ; for the commander of the Santa 
Anna was doubtless the common ancestor of both. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


DENZIL FANE. 

I LEAENT much about the queer race from the Santa 
Annans log-books and the other books to which Mr. 
Field, by his mistresses command, gave me access ; by 
reading between the lines, by conversation with that 
gentleman and with others, and from my own observa- 
tion, I learnt even more. The gist of this information 
I propose to embody in the present chapter, for it is 
essential, not only to a right understanding of the 
people among whom I found myself, but of the events 
that afterwards came to pass, as also of my own personal 
narrative, which I shall presently resume. 

It will be remembered that when Mr. Hare, the 
chaplain, threw his diary into the sea, he thought he 
was like to die, and that his companions would not long 
outlive him. As the reader already knows, these anti- 
cipations were not realised. Mr. Hare lived a good deal 
longer than he expected, and only a proportion of the 
ship^s company — the sick, the wounded, and nearly all 
the Spanish prisoners — succumbed. The fittest survived, 
in fact; but they suffered terribly from scurvy and 
thirst, and were saved when almost at the last gasj) by 
a tremendous downpour of tropical rain, followed by a 


DENZIL FANE. 


167 


succession of storms, which drove them hundreds of 
miles out of their course, dismasted and damaged the 
ship, and left her little better than a wreck. For days 
together the officers were unable to take an observation. 
Before jury-masts could be rigged and damages made 
good, they drifted into tlie fog, from which they emerged 
only to strike on the Painted Rocks. Fortunately, how- 
ever, the ship was jammed between two reefs, and im- 
paled on a third in such a way that she could neither 
sink nor make much water. 

This happened in the night, and the joy of the 
harassed and weary sailors may be imagined when 
at daybreak they saw before them a land of waving 
forests and running waters. As the island was not 
marked on any of their charts, they had no means of 
knowing whether it was the possession of a European 
Power or inhabited only by savages. But as the boats 
(which were at once got out) approached the shore, they 
were met by a multitude of canoes, crowded with copper- 
coloured aborigines, whose demeanour showed that they 
had never before beheld men with white skins and hairy 
faces. They brought fruit and other offerings, and made 
overtures of friendship which the English sailors were 
only too glad to reciprocate, since it was evident that, 
whatever else happened, they would have to remain on 
the island for a considerable time ; and being too few to 
conquer a whole people, their only chance was to make 
friends of them. 

The natives, as Commander Fane thought, were 


168 


A qtEBR RAC^. 


Caribs, of the same race as the unfortunates who 
inhabited the Bahamas when Columbus discovered 
America, and who were afterwards so completely wiped 
out by the Spanish Conquistador es. They were gentle 
and hospitable, and looking upon their visitors as 
superior beings, treated them with great deference and 
respect. Though for the most part hunters and fisher^ 
men, the Caribs of the island were not wholly uncivilised. 
They dwelt in villages; their houses were something 
more than mere shelter-huts ; they had a rudimentary 
knowledge of gardening and agriculture ; the make of 
their flint and bone tools and weapons showed consider- 
able skill; their ornamenta were deftly wrought; and 
they contrived, in a rude way, to spin and weave, fashion 
into clothing, and even to dye, the indigenous cotton of 
the island. Physically well made, with senses wonder- 
fully acute, they had a ready wit and dignified manners, 
and Commander Fane was not long in coming to the 
conclusion that the islanders might easily be converted 
into a Christian and civilised people. 

The first idea of the castaways was to build a boat big 
enough to carry them to England or the Bahamas ; to 
which end they lost no time in taking out of the Santa 
Anna everything likely to be useful to them, and that 
was pretty nearly all she contained — ropes, spars^ sails, 
tools, arms, ammunition, and the rest. They even broke 
up and took some of the planking, and stripped as much 
of -the copper sheathing as they could get at. The 
treasure was also removed and safely stored. 


biiNTilL J'ANE. 


m 


All this occupied two mouths or more, and it was 
barely completed when the Santa Anna, which had been 
terribly buffeted in a storm, went to pieces. 

So far the men had worked willingly and well, 
obeying their officers without hesitation; but when it 
became a question of building a boat and affronting 
new dangers (to use Commander Fane'^s own words), 
they began to murmur. Why, they said, should they 
undertake a perilous voyage in a frail craft — a voyage of 
at least two thousand miles (that being the distance to 
the nearest British possession) — with the almost cer- 
tainty (if they should escape shipwreck a second time), 
of falling into the hands of the Spaniards and being 
immured for years in some horrible prison, possibly 
tortured and put to death by the Inquisition? Why 
not stay where they wwe ? The country w^as fertile 
and beautiful, the climate genial, the people kindly. 
What could they do better than make the Fair Island * 
their home, and let the world wag ? 

Whether this idea had already occurred to Fane does 
not appear, but before the suggestion could be considered 
an event occurred which seems to have helped him to a 
decision, tie and his men were living in tents and huts 
near the present site of Fairhaven, when one morning 
several of the native chiefs made their appearance, and 
gave them to understand that they were threatened with 

* A name conferred on the country by the sailors because of 
its supposed resemblance to the Isle of Wight, which in the last 
century was generally known as the “ Fair Island.” 


170 


A QUEER race. 


a grave danger ; and taking tlie commandant roand the 
mountain, pointed to the west, where there was a breach 
in the barrier of rocks, and where the mist occasionally 
lifted. 

Looking through his glass, Fane saw that the sea 
was simply black with canoes, which were rapidly 
approaching the coast. 

It was a flotilla of invaders, and the Carib chiefs, who 
seemed greatly alarmed, implored him by signs to join his 
forces to theirs and help them to repulse the foe. Fane, 
who wanted nothing better, ordered his plan of cam- 
paign on the spot. It would be impossible to reach 
the west coast before the invaders (whom, for want of a 
better name, the sailors christened “ Cariberoes ”) dis- 
embarked, the more especially as the country was thickly 
wooded and destitute of roads. But the creek that lies 
below Fairhaven joins a stream which sweeps round 
the foot of the mountain, and flo^vs half-way across 
the island in a westerly direction. It was on the 
banks of this stream (navigable for small boats) that 
the English officer resolved to intercept the Cariberoes 
and give them battle. His men were summoned forth- 
with, and embarked on the four boats which had once 
belonged to the Santa Anna. The crews were, of course, 
well armed, and the long-boat carried a small carronade 
in her bows. A few hours sufficed to organise the 
expedition, which included a hundred canoes, carrying 
about a thousand natives, armed with bows and arrows 
and spears, the whole under Mr, Fane’s command. 


t)KNZTL PANE. 


171 


The spot he selected for making a stand was at a 
ford near an opening in the forest that the invaders 
must needs traverse in order to reach the eastern or 
Fairhaven side of the island, which was assumed to be 
their objective point, as thereabouts were the principal 
Carib villages. 

By great exertion Fane and his men succeeded in 
reaching the ford three or four hours before the enemy 
put in an appearance. Keeping his blue-jackets in 
reserve, he sent the greater part of the Caribs to meet 
the invaders in the open, with orders to fall back 
fighting as the latter advanced, recross the river, and 
take up a position among the brushwood on the banks. 
At the same time, feeling himself quite strong enough, 
and having no doubt as to the result, he ordered two of 
his officers to take a second party of Caribs through the 
forest, lie in ambush near the invaders^ line of retreat, 
and cut them off from the boats. 

These dispositions made, the allied forces awaited the 
onset of the enemy, who came on several thousands 
strong. 

The Caribs, after making a show of resistance, fell 
back, and then, pretending to be panic-stricken, made 
in desperate baste for the river, the foe in full ciy after 
them. When the latter were well within range, the 
blue-jackets (who had been lying perdiis under the bank) 
opened fire on them both with their muskets and the 
carronade. The invaders, utterly dumbfounded by this 
'unexpected reception, retreated in great confusion ; but 


A qUEfill RAClfi^ 


IH 

once amongst the trees again, they rallied, and, turning 
to bay, showed a most resolute front. 

On this the commander ordered a general charge, 
which he led in person. Then followed a desperate 
struggle — '^the hottest thing I was ever in,^^ wrote 
Fane. The blue- jackets, after giving the Car i heroes a 
couple of volleys point-blank, fell on them with cutlasses 
and clubbed muskets, and were bravely supported by 
their native allies. The fight lasted fifteen minutes, 
and there is no telling how it might have ended if the 
ambush party, hearing the firing, had not made a 
diversion in the rear, whereupon the invaders, being 
seized with a panic, threw away their arms, and made 
off in all directions. Many were killed ; more were 
taken prisoners ; only a very small remnant succeeded 
in reaching their boats and getting away. 

The Caribs had no idea of keeping the prisoners alive, 
and were proceeding to make short work of them, when 
Commander Fane interposed. He would have nobody 
killed in cold blood. The question then arose as to how 
the prisoners were to be disposed of. To let them go 
away would never do ; they might come back another 
day. To let them roam about the country was equally 
impolitic; they would be a chronic trouble and a per- 
manent danger. There was only one other alternative, 
and that was adopted. They were enslaved. 

Fane had many advanced ideas ; but the age in 
which he lived was neither a sentimental nor a humani- 
tarian age. He not only thought there was no wrong 


DENZIL FANE. 


173 


in slavery, but that the best use to which the prisonei-s 
could be put was to reduce them to servitude. So 
they were bound in twos and threes and distributed 
among their captors, and slavery became one of the 
[)ermanent institutiohs of the island. 

The invaders, as Fane afterwards ascertained, came 
from an island about a hundred miles east of Fair Island, 
and when he first saw them their appearance excited his 
uiil)ounded surprise. Some were black, others copper- 
coloured or red ; but the greater part had the same spotted 
skins as the Caliban crew of Field’s boat — were, in fact, 
their ancestors. How African negroes had found their 
way so far west was a matter of conjecture ; they were 
probably, as Fane surmised, the descendants of a cargo 
of revolted slaves, who, after killing their captors, had 
landed on the island and intermarried with the natives. 

Speaking for myself, I am unable to assign any 
cause for the peculiar hue of these people, or to decide 
whether it was the outcome of some subtle evolutionary 
process, or a mere caprice of atavism. As the mixture 
of aborigines with Englishmen on the one hand, and 
negroes on the other, produced analogous results, the 
piebaldism of their progeny may be attributable either 
to soil or climate, or pos^bly to some racial peculiarity. 
I have heard of tribes in Central America presenting 
similar characteristics, and it is a well-known fact that 
the issue of a black and a white, or a mulatto and a 
white, are not always of the same type. Their children 
are occasionally born with black limbs and a white face, 


174 


A QUEER RACE. 


or vice versa ^ and 1 know of no reason wliy the offspring 
of mixed races should not have variegated skins rather 
than skins of one uniform colour throughout. Misce- 
genation has produced even stranger results. 

But as I am simply relating my'own personal adven- 
tures, it no pai^t of my purpose to suggest e.xplana- 
lions of the obscure natural phenomena which have come 
under my notice. 

And now to resume my story. 

When the jjrisoners (among whom were many 
women, the object of the invaders being to take entire 
possession of the island) had been disposed of, the Carib 
c’iiiefs waited on Commander Fane, and, after expressing 
unbounded gratitude for the great service he had ren- 
dered them, begged of him to stay with them for good, 
and offered him the sovereignty of the country. As for 
his people, they might have as much land and as many 
slaves as they liked, and choose for themselves wives 
from among the most beautiful girls of the island. 

It was not like a British officer to accept such an offer 
as this, for doing so involved both a dereliction of duty 
and a breach of discipline. To remain on the island, ex- 
cept under compulsion, was tantamount to desertion; 
and desertion by a combatant^ officer in war time is an 
offence punishable with death. Yet Denzil Fane not only 
did accept the offer of the Carib diiefs, but constrained 
his brother officers to follow his example. I assume the 
constraint, albeit no mention of it appears in the records, 
because it can hardly be supposed that the officers — 


DENZIL FANE. 


175 


the two lieutenants, the master^s mates, the surgeon, 
the chaplain, and the half-dozen midshipmen — would 
willingly agree to expatriate themselves and renounce 
all hope of ever seeing England again. But the re- 
calcitrants were a small minority, and, being too few to 
build a ship and get away by themselves, they had no 
alternative but to throw in their lot with the others and 
make the best of it. And some of the officers, like the 
survivors of the crew, may have preferred freedom and 
the Fair Island to life on the' ocean wave, for the 
British man-of-war of that time was not exactly a 
paradise. 

As for Denzil Panels motive^, can offer no adequate 
explanation. One, and perhaps the most powerful, may 
have been that since his arrival on the island he had 
married a wife. The Spanish captain of the Santa Amiaj 
who fell on his own quarter-deck, had with him his wife 
and daughter, the latter a handsome girl of nineteen. 
The wife (Sehora Velasquez y Blanco) survived her 
husband only a few weeks ; but Mercedes was among 
the remnant who reached the island, and a month after- 
wards she and Fane were made one by the Rev. Robert 
Hare. 

If the commander had left a wife in England (and 
such things have happened), his reluctance to return 
thither would be accounted for. But, though his con- 
duct may have been questionable and his motives 
obscure, there can be no question that Denzil Fane was a 
man of resolute will and strong character — a born leader 


176 


A QUEER RACE. 


of men^ I should say. If his people thought they were 
going to lead idle lives, they were very much mistaken. 
So soon as the decision was taken to remain on the 
island, he assigned to every one his task, organised a 
Government, and promulgated a code of laws. Oppo- 
sition (if the idea of it was ever conceived) would have 
been out of the question ; the Caribs simply idolised their 
White Chief/^ and rendered him the most implicit 
obedience. Roads were made, houses built, gardens laid 
out, trees cut down, and the country opened out. Sailors 
are always handy fellows, and among so many there 
were naturally some with a turn for mechanics and en- 
gineering, and great improvements were effected in the 
native methods of manufacture, and several new indus- 
tries set on foot. Into this work Fane threw so much 
energy that I am disposed to think he wanted to justify 
himself to his own conscience by civilising his Carib 
subjects, and making the island the home of a happy 
and thriving community. This may possibly have been 
his ruling motive from the first ; and if so, there can be 
no doubt that with the materials at his command he 
succeeded better than might have been expected. 

Some of the rules he laid down are worth mention. 
Althougli he acquired the Carib tongue, he made Eng- 
lish the official language, and insisted on the Caribs 
learning it. The process was probably slow and pain- 
ful in the beginning, but in the end the desired 
result was attained. At the time of my arrival on the 
island there were not a hundred men who could hold a 


DENZIL FANE. 


177 


conversation in the Carib tongue. He also made them 
Christians — after a fashion — which was all the more easy 
as their own primitive religion seems to have sat very 
lightly on them, and they were ready to believe pretty 
nearly everything the Great White Chief told them. 

In his own family Denzil Fane made the practice of 
athletics and the training of the senses a religions duty, 
whereby it came to pass that his descendants were distin- 
guished by exceptional bodily strength, litheness of limb, 
acuteness of hearing, and keenness of vision. Owing to 
their descent from two European ancestors, moreover 
(though Fane^s children had necessarily intermarried 
with Caribs and half-breeds), they were whiter and loss 
piebald than the other families of mixed blood, and 
formed a true aristocracy, not by right of birth mer(dy, 
but by virtue of their physical and moral superiority, 
which was probably the end Fane had in view. 

He called his Government a Commonwealth, and 
himself its Protector (from which I infer that he was 
an admirer of Oliver Cromwell) ; but in reality it was 
a paternal , despotism of a very uncompromising sort. 
The ruling body was ostensibly a Council of Nine, pre- 
sided over by the Protector, and nominated by himself ; 
and though they were at liberty to offer suggestions 
and make proposals, he was under no obligation either 
to adopt the one or accept the other. 

The office of Protector was made hereditary in 
Panels own family; but on the strictest principle of 
primogeniture — in other words, the first-born child was 


178 


k QUEETl RACE. 


to succeed whatever might be its sex. Sons and 
daugliters were placed on a perfect equality. The 
Council of Nine had, however, a right of veto, and 
it was about the only right they possessed. In the 
event of two-thirds of their number declaring that, in 
their opinion,, the heir or heiress was physically or 
mentally unfit, or morally unworthy to rule, he or she 
would have to stand aside in favour of the next child in 
the line of succession. 

Denzil Fane lived long enough to consolidate his 
authority, firmly establish his dynasty, and organise, 
according to his own ideas, the community of which 
he was the head. He ruled the Fair Island for nearly 
half a century, and died full of years and of honours. 
The islanders revered his memory as the Children of 
Israel revered the memory of Moses, and even more re- 
ligiously than the Americans of to-day revere the memory 
of George Washington. His recorded opinions were held 
in' high honour, and the views and sayings ascribed to 
him by tradition had almost the force of law. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

‘WHY NOT QUEEN? 

Although I spent half the night in poring over log- 
books and other records, and conversing with Field — 
who, now that the ice was broken, threw aside his 
reserve, and treated me with all the cordiality I could 
desire — I rose next morning before the sun, and, accom- 
panied by Bolsover and my host, and ten fishermen, 
went on board the Diana to prepare for the reception of 
Queen Mab. 

On our way thither Field explained how the present 
ruler came by her title. Two years previously Mabel 
Fane had succeeded her father, the fourth Protector ; 
and as she strongly objected to the appellation as being 
unsuitable for a young woman, and the Council of Nine 
concurred in the objection, it became necessary to choose 
another. The choice was, however, attended with some 
difficulty. Protectress,^^ besides being questionable 
English, did not sound well. ''Governess,^' besides 
sounding worse, was generally used in another sense. 

Chief and President have no feminine, and Miss 
Pane made it a condition iine qua non that the title 
selected should denote her sex. 

The difficulty was solved by an ingenious member of 
the council. Why not Queen ? he said. It is the 
M 2 


180 


A qUEEK EACE. 



feminine of king ; and * king/ in the original significa- 
tion of the wordj meant simply ^ the man who can ^ — 
the strong man, in fact; he who is best qualified to be 
leader and chief. Hence ^ queen ^ means the ^ woman 
who can/ and no more implies divine right or royal 
descent than the title of ^ Protector * chosen by the first 
Denzil.^^ 

Mabel liked the idea. She decided on the spot that 
she should be called Queen ; ” but strictly in the sense 
mentioned by the member of the council to whom the 
suggestion was due. As for the shortening of her 
Christian name to Mab, which was almost in the nature 
of things, she rather liked it. Queen Mab sounded 
so much better than Queen Mabel/^ she said. 

What sort of a queen does she make?^^ I asked 

Field. 

A very queenly one, I should say," he answeied, 
with a smile ; and as you have seen already, she is 
rather absolute. But she is both able and well in- 
structed. Indeed, I think she is the ablest ruler we 
have had since the first Denzil." 

She is a woman who can ? ** 

'^Exactly. But between you and me" — ^^dropping 
his voice — fear that she does not hold her great 
ancestor’s maxims in quite so much respect as might be 
desired. She has done several things which do not 
quite square with his recorded opinions; and on one 
occasion, when I ventured to remonstrate with her, she 
said — this is strictly between ourselves, Mr. Erie — she 



WHY NOT qUEEN? 


181 


actually said — I can hardly bring* myself to repeat the 
words — ‘ A fig for old Denzil ! There I ^ ** 

God bless me ! I can hardly believe ** 

She did, though, I assure you. ' It is quite true 
that she remembered herself the next moment, and said 
she regretted having spoken so hastily. But the words 
were spoken, and I shall never forget them.^^ 

Yes/^ I replied, sympathetically ; they must 
have made you feel pretty bad. So the Queen is hasty 
sometimes ? 

Rather; but then you must remember that she is 
young, and lac*ks experience ; she is quick-tempered, 
too, and just as quick, I am bound to say, to acknow- 
ledge a fault or own to a mistake. Of a right noble 
nature is Queen Mab.'' 

Once on board the Dianas I set to work with two of 
the men to get up steam, while the others, under 
Bolsover^s directions, occupied themselves in putting 
the ship to rights, swabbing the decks, and otherwise, 
as he expressed it, making her fit to be seen.^^ 

I saw with great regret that disappointment about 
the treasure had made old Tom quite another man. It 
seemed to have changed his character. Instead of the 
simple-hearted, cheerful, chatty fellow he had once 
been, he was taciturn and morose. He did everything 
I wanted ; but I found it impossible to draw him into 
conversation; he answered me only in monosyllables. 
Something had come between us ; we were no longer 
the close friends we had been, and I felt sure, from 


182 


A QUEEB RACE. 


his manner, that by a strange perversion of ideas he 
held me to blame for the shattering of his illusion ; or, 
perhaps, considering the treasure rightly his, he thought 
I should have claimed it on his behalf. 

All this both annoyed and grieved me, not only 
because I had a sincere respect for old Tom, but because 
I began to fear that we should not find it very easy to 
get away from Fair Island, and that unless we pulled 
together we might not get away at all. 

iVfter we had been on board some three hours, and 
everything was in readiness, Queen Mab arrived in a 
large boat, manned by half a dozen slaves, which was 
speedily followed by two other boats, bringing a brave 
company of men and women, principally composed, as I 
afterwards learnt, of members of the Fane family and 
their kindred. 

When I had shown them round the decks, I took 
them into the engine-room, and explained, as well as 
I could, how the engine worked. Then the capstan 
was manned and the anchor weighed. Tom took the 
wheel, and I started the engine. I need not repeat the 
exclamations of surprise which this proceeding called 
forth, nor the thousand and one questions which I had 
to answer. To use a somewhat trite phrase, they may 
be more easily imagined than described. 

The most curious of the company was' Queen Mab. 
After going on deck to make sure that the ship really 
moved and see how it did move, she returned to the 
engine-room, plied me with questions, watched every- 


Wr.Y NOT qUEEN? 


183 


thing I did, and remained with me until we reached the 
mouth of the cove, where (the place being well sheltered) 
we had decided to let go the anchor.* 

It was still earlj^ in the day, and I thought the best 
thing we could now do was to overhaul a part of the 
cargo, so we opened the hold, rigged a derrick, and 
hoisted up a few of the cases. The first we opened was 
a case of Manchester prints ; the next contained silks 
and mixed goods. Mab and all the women on board 
were in ecstasies. The island did not produce silk, and 
none of them had ever seen a piece of print in their lives 
before. The Queen took one of the prettiest (by no 
means the gaudiest; she showed good taste), and draw- 
ing: it round her like a robe, asked the others how it 
suited her. 

If you will come with me into the saloon,'^ I said, 
** you shall see for yourself."’^ 

I douT quite know what you mean; but go on — I 
will follow,^^ was the answer. 

So a few lengths of the print were cut off, and we 
went into the saloon, which happened to be rather prettily 
decorated with painted panels and long mirrors. The 
surprise and delight of Mab and her maidens were 
really comic, and amused me immensely. They had 
never seen themselves full length before. Looking- 
glasses were not manufactured in Fair Island, the only 
mirror the Queen possessed being a relic from the Santa 
Anna, about the size of her hand, and very much 
cracked, and a precious possession it was. She would 


184 


A qUEE|{ RACE. 


not have exchanged it for its weight in diamonds. I 
thought they would never have done contemplating the 
reflection of their figures and faces, and the most 
mottled seemed to be quite as satisfied with their com- 
plexions as the comparatively fair. 

But nothing lasts for ever, and after a while we 
returned on deck and resumed our inspection of the 
cargo. What pleased most, after the silks, prints, and 
looking-glasses, were some pins and needles, which we 
found in a case of haberdashery ; for albeit these articles 
were made on the island, they were of a very rude and 
primitive sort. 

Queen Mab was in a fever of delight, and when I 
asked her to do me the favour of accepting one of the 
long mirrors (which, I explained, could easily be taken 
out and put in a frame), she took both my hands in 
hers and said she would never, never be able to repay 
my kindness, a demonstration which, judging by their 
looks, did not altogether please some of those about her. 

“ Oh, I have forgotten all about the books ! she 
exclaimed, shortly afterwards ; and they were what I 
most wanted to see. But you have so many wonderful 
things that I am really quite bewildered. Show me the 
books, please, Mr. Erle.^^ 

I said they were rather scattered about, and would 
require getting together, but if she would come again 
to the saloon J would show her some of them. So we 
went below a second time, and I fetched a number of 
books from my own berth and from some of the other 


WHY NOT QUEEN? 


185 


berths, and put them on the table. Among them were 
several bound volumes of the Graphic and the Illustrated 
London News, and other illustrated works. This was 
another surprise. The only picture the Queen had ever 
seen before was a daub by a native artist. Engravings 
she never had seen before. As she turned over the 
leaves she became almost wild with excitement. 

Oh, how I should like to see England ! ** she ex- 
claimed, after looking at the illustration of some 
English scene. Would it be possible to go thither, 
I wonder?'^ 

On this, all who were in the saloon — and it was 
quite full — regarded her with pained astonishment, as 
if they could hardly believe their own ears.^ 

Yes,^^ she rej)eated, defiantly, I should like to 
see England, and so would you, only you are afraid to 
say so. How I hate these hypocrisies ! 

Then she turned to the pictures again. There were 
many which she could not understand, and she was 
continually demanding explanations. 

This,^^ she said, smiling, reminds me of Hamlet 
and Polonius. It is very like a whale.'^^ 

It is a whale,^^ I said ; those men in the boat 
are harpooning him.^^ 

You call it whale-hunting, I suppose 
^ Whale-hunting " is not bad; but it is generally 
called whale-fishing.^^ 

Did you ever see shark-hunting V* 

** I have seen sharks hunt a man, if that is what 


186 


A QUEER RACE. 


you mean/^ I said, with a shudder, thinking of the 
terrible death of p lor Peyton. 

I don’t mean that ; I mean men hunting sharks — 
^fighting^ would perhaps be a better way of putting it.^' 

Never, and I don’t 

'^You shall, then. It is splendid sport. We will 
have a hunt to-morrow. Which will you be, a hunter 
or a spectator ? 

“ Well, until I have seen something of the sport I 
think I would rather be a spectator,'^ I answered, 
cautiously. 

You are wise,^^ said the Queen, dryly ; ''for unless 
you are a strong swimmer and very expert in the 

water However, you will see. I suppose we may 

take some of these books and a few of these cases 
ashore with us ? 

To this question there could, of course, be but one 
answer; and I was about to give orders accordingly, 
when somebody shouted from the top of the companion 
that Bolsover, who was still at the wheel, wanted me 
on deck. 

The ship was still under way, for at Mab^s request 
we had steamed slowly round the bay, and were now 
within a couple of miles from the place we had selected 
for an anchorage. 

Tom was talking to Amyas Fane, with whom he 
seemed to have struck up a friendship, and who, know- 
ing the coast thoroughly, was acting as pilot. 

*' Mr. Fane thinks as we had better run a bit further 


WHY NOT QUEEN ? 


1S7 



on than the place you thoug-ht of/^ said the boatswain. 
“ He knows of a little inlet where we can moor her, 
stem and stern, and where she’ll be almost as safe as if 
she was in dock. That^ll be better than anchoring/' 
But is there water enough ? " 

Enough and to spare. Fourteen feet at low tide 
alongside the rocks." 

All right ! Nothing could be better ; and it will 
be so much handier for lauding the cargo. If you and 
Mr. Fane will remain at the wheel and do what is 
necessary, I'll stand by the engine." 

Ay, ay, sir! I'll pass the word when you are 
to stop. I think you had better slower a bit now. 
We shall have to send one of them boats ashore with a 
rope." 

Half an hour later the ship was safely berthed, 
and moored stem and stern in such a way that she 
could rise and fall with the tide without touching the 
rocks, which rose sheer out of the water on either 
side of her. 

This done, the cases selected by the Queen, and the 
books, were lowered into the largest boat, and we all 
returned to Fairhaven. I was in the same boat with 
Mab and Field ; old Tom went with Amy as Fane, and 
as we walked up from the jetty he informed me, rather 
curtly, that he should not go with me to Mr. Field's, 
but that he was going to stay with Mr. Fane. 

As you like, Bolsover," I replied, coldly, for his 
m:;nner was not only unfriendly, but almost discourteous. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE SHARK -FIGHTERS. 

'‘What relation is Amyas Fane to the Queen?" I 
asked Field, as we sat smoking our pipes in the 
verandah of his house, and watching the crescent moon 
as it rose out of the mist beyond the Painted Rocks. 

" He is the eldest son of her father^s younger brother, 
and the next in the line of succession." 

" You mean that if she were to die, he would 
become King?" 

" Not King j Protector." 

" I mean Protector. I have no certain information 
on the subject, but I take it for granted that she is not 
married ? " 

“ No," laughed Field. “ Mab is not married. T 
wish she were." 

“Nor likely to be?" 

“ Not that I am aware of ; nor do I think she 
favours anybody." 

“ Does anybody favour her ? " 

“Oh dear yes! Most of our eligible young men 
would be glad to become MaVs husband. But I 
suppose she will choose for herself in good time.” 

“ Do your Fair Island ladies propose, then ? " 


THE SHAEK-riGHTERS. 


i89 


** As often as not. Denzil was a strong advocate 
for the equality of the sexes; he said that when a 
young woman takes a fancy to any particular young 
man, there is no harm in her telling him so/’ 

And is that principle acted on at present ? ” 

As often as not. It is sometimes one way, some- 
times the other.” 

I then asked my host how it was that the Queen’s 
expression of a desire to visit England should have 
caused so much surprise, not to say horror, among those 
who heard her. 

She said that, did she?” exclaimed Field, horrified 
in his turn. What will she be saying next, I wonder? 
I don’t think she was in earnest, though. She often 
says outrageous things, just to startle people ; and, ’pon 
my word, she succeeds. I can easily tell you why they 
were surprised. Her great* great-grandfather was one 
of the wisest men that ever lived. We have to thank 
him for all our happiness and prosperity ; and there was 
nothing he more insisted upon than the necessity of pre- 
serving our independence ; and so long as we maintain 
our isolation and keep the existence, or, at any rate, the 
whereabouts of Fair Island secret, we shall be safe from 
molestation. In his time he would let nobody leave 
the island, exrcept perhaps for a sail round the coast, on 
any pretext whatever ; and the rule has been enforced 
ever since. I ought rather to say that nobody has ever 
so much as expressed a desire to break it. (Mr. Fane 
was wise in his generation. The visit of a British 


190 


A qUEER RACE. 


man-of-war might have been rather awkward for him 
and some of his companions.) You may judge, then, 
what a sensation Mab^s declaration of a wish to visit 
England — which she could not well do without quitting 
the island — must needs create/' 

I think I understand the great Denzil's motives 
for laying down such a rule/' I said. But how about 
strangers who come here by accident, like Bolsover and 
myself, for instance ? Are they not allowed to leave ? " 
The contingency does not seem to have been con- 
templated. All that Denzil said — you will find it in 
his valedictory, address, written a few months before his 
decease — all that he ^aid was : ^ Resist hostile strangers 
to the death, but friendly strangers welcome, and give 
them of your best." 

** Nothing about letting them go ?" 

^'Nothing; from which I infer that he did not 
desire to lay down any general rule on the subject, but 
rather that his successors should deal with any case that 
might arise strictly on its merits." 

'^So my fate depends on Queen Mab. Suppose, 
now, that after a while— I am in no particular hurry — 
suppose I desire to leave the island, how shall I carry 
my purpose into effect — how get away ? Assuming, of 
course, that the Queen makes no objection." 

In that big ship of yours. How else ? " 

If our chance of returning to England depends on 
Bolsover and me getting the Liana past the Painted 
Rocks and through the mist, to say nothing of 


THE SHARK -FIGHTERS. 


191 


navigating her across the Atlantic, I am afraid we shall 
have to stay here for the term of our natural lives,^^ I 
said, gloomily. 

^'And would you regard that as a misfortune? 
Where can you find a pleasanter country than this, or 
one where you could enjoy a greater measure of pro- 
sperity and contentment ? The Queen and the Council 
of Nine would only be too glad to give you land and 
slaves, and build you a house, and with your fair skin 
and red hair and beard you would be sure to have 
eligible offers of marriage 

My hair is not red ; it is chestnut,'’'^ I interposed, 
impatiently. 

Call it what you like ; I only mean that it is very 
beautiful hair. Everybody admires it. The girls cannot 
keep their eyes off you. And I am sure you will not 
find finer women in the world than the Fanes (my 
mother was a Fane). And if their complexions cannot 
be described as exactly European, they have a beauty 
all their own. It is merely a matter of taste.*'' 

In this opinion I was able cordially to concur, 
although I did not say (as I thought) that piebald 
complexions were not to my taste. As to Mr. Field's 
proposal that I should settle on the island for good, 
I observed that, tempting as it was, I did not see my 
way to accept it; that I did not take kindly to the idea 
of never seeing England and my friends there again, 
and that if my mother did not receive news of me before 
long, she would be broken-hearted. To this he made no 


19 ^ 


A QUEER RACE. 


answer, and after some further conversation I repeated 
an inquiry I had already made more than once as to the 
position of the island ; and producing a chart, I asked 
him to give me at least an approximate idea of its 
whereabouts. 

Not at present,^"^ he said, with a quiet smile. “ You 
have only been here two or three days : why are you so 
eager to know everything ? Have patience, my friend. 

So I returned the chart to my pocket, and resolved, 
on the first opportunity, to put the same question to 
Miss Mab. To tell the truth, I felt rather disappointed 
that she had not invited me to spend the evening at 
the Queen^s House (formerly “ Protector^s House as 
I found her dwelling was called. 

Before we separated for the night. Field informed me 
that, as the shark-killing expedition would set out at 
sunrise, we should have to breakfast by candle-light, and 
that I was to be one of the Queen^s guests on board her 
own yacht. 

I am always punctual, and at five the next morning 
I entered my hosPs dining-room, arrayed in my flannels, 
and we reached the jetty at the very moment that the 
sun emerged from the sea and chased the shadows from 
the mountain-top. 

We had not long to wait. The day was hardly born 
when the island Queen, followed by a gay company of 
male and female Fanes and their kindred (who alone 
were admitted to her intimacy), came trooping down 
the hill. She greeted me very graciously, and invited 


THE SHAllK-FIGHTEllS. 


193 


me to join her party, an invitation which, I need scarcely 
siiy, was accepted with thanks/^ 

Rather to my surprise, her yacht, the Sunflower ^ 
was a schooner of 'feome seventy tons burden, solidly 
built, and well fitted and found. So soon as we were 
on board, the order was given to weigh anchor and 
make sail, and, followed by several other yachts and a 
crowd of smaller boats, we moved slowly — the wind 
being light — down the creek. 

“There they come cried Mab, pointing to 
a large boat with a lug-sail, for which all the other 
boats respectfully made way. 

It was the shark- hunters^ boat, and contained eight 
men, six of whom were rowing, while one steered, and 
the other seemed to be attending to the sail. The 
coxswain, and apparently the captain, was Amyas Fane. 
In the bottom of the boat were two or three dark 
objects that looked like bundles of rags. As she passed 
us the crew gave a cheer, which was cordially returned 
by the people on the yacht. 

“The shai*k-fighters, I suppose?'^ I said to the 
Queen. 

“ Yes. What do you think of them ? 

“ I never saw a set of finer young fellows in my 
life.^^ 

And I never had. All were over six feet three, 
brawny and broad-shouldered, deep of chest and long 
of limb, and as lithe and active as so many cats. They 
were nearly naked, wearing only short drawers, but 


194 


A QUEER RACE. 


each man had on a belt, from which hung* a sword, and 
their black hair was confined in a sort of fillet. 

Their boat went ahead, and when she was well into 
the bay, about three miles from the furthest headland, 
the lug-sail was lowered, and one of the dark objects 
(wliich turned out to be goats) fastened to a line and 
thrown into the sea. Then the oars were unshipped, 
and Amyas Fane, standing up, saluted the Queen, and 
said, half laughing : 

Morituri te salutant.*^ 

After this a few minutes^ silence, during which the 
other boats came up and formed a wide circle round the 
hunters^ boat. 

“Do you see that?^^ said Mab, in an intense 
whisper. 

“ That was the dorsal fin of a shark, and the next 
moment the huge fish rolled over, and opening his great 
jaws, bit the goat in two. Then another floated up 
from unseen depths and tried to tear the precious morsel 
Irom his companion's mouth,' while a third, darting 
suddenly forward, snapped up the remaining portion. 

“ NowF^ shouted the captain ; and six of the hunters, 
drawing their long, sharp swords, slipped quietly over- 
board. 

The sharks, having by this time finished with the 
goat, gave their attention to the new-comers. But 
while they were chasing one, the hunters dived under 
their bellies and stabbed them repeatedly with their 
swords, drawing blood at every stroke. Then, when 


THE SHARK-FIGHTERS. 


]05 


Hie wounded monsters turned round to meet their 
enemy, the pursi^id would become pursuer, and help the 
comrade who had just helped him. The sharks, be- 
wildered and infuriated, dashed hither and thither in 
wild confusion, lashing the water with their tails and 
dyeing it witii their blood. 

This went on for a quarter of an hour. It was 
horrible, yet fascinating. The very intensity of the 
excitement kept the spectators silent. Nobody spoke 
except the captain, who gave his orders from the boat 
like a commander during an action. Over and over 
again I thought one or other of the hunters would 
surely be killed or mutilated ; but at the very moment 
when destruction seemed imminent, the almost victim 
would either evade the snap by an agile turn or dive out 
of sight, or a comrade distract the shares attention by 
a sudden stab. One hunter thrust his sword into a 
shark^s jaws, and leaving it there, swam to the boat for 
another. 

The fight went on fast and furious, until one of the 
fishes, turning belly upwards, floated to the top of the 
water — dead. 

In obedience to an order from the captain, the 
hunters now returned to the boat for a few minutes^ 
rest, which they had well earned, as also the praises of 
the Queen and the plaudits of the spectators. 

In the meantime the surviving sharks had fastened 
on the body of the slain, and others, scenting blood afar, 
were hurrying up to the feast. 

N % 


196 


A QUEER RACE. 


Have at them again ! All ! cried the captain ; 
and himself setting the example, plunged into the 
water sword in hand, leaving the boat to take care of 
itself. 

This time the sharks, occupied with their meal, were 
rather taken at a disadvantage ; but the creatures being 
80 close together, the only way to get at them was to 
dive under their bellies, and much address was required 
to avoid blows from their tails, which were quite capable 
of breaking a limb. As, moreover, other sharks kept 
coming up and might take them unawares, two of the 
hunters were told off to keep watch and ward, give 
notice of their approach, and afford help where help was 
most required. 

In ten minutes after the opening of the second 
attack two more sharks were numbered with the slain, 
and almost before the breath was out of their bodies the 
others began to rend their dead companions, an occu- 
pation which they occasionally varied by a free light 
among themselves. 

That makes a fourth,^^ said Queen Mab, as another 
shark turned over on his back. They have done very 
well. I think it is almost time to cry, 'Hold! enough 1 ' 
What say you ? 

‘‘ I am quite of your opinion,^^ I answered. Better 
stop before anybody is hurt.^^ 

** Good ! I will order the yellow flag to be run up. 
That is the signal for the combat to cease.^' 

The words were hardly spoken, when one of the 


THE SHARK-FIGHTERS. 


197 


hunters anticipsled the signal by emerging from the 
throng and swimming, slowly and painfully, towards 
the boat. Climbing over the gunwale with some 
difficulty, he lay down in the stern. 

That is Bertram Hare,^^ said Mab, anxiously. I 
wonder what is the matter. Are you hurt, Bertram ? 

Nothing to speak of,^^ answered thS young fellow, 
smiling. That last beggar we killed gave me a crack * 
on the leg just as he was turning over ; I rather think 
it is broken.^^ ^ 

'' I am very sorry. I was in hopes the day would 
end without any mishap. However, Dr. Sergeant will 
soon set you to rights. You will have to keep the 
house two or three weeks, though.^^ 

‘'That is the worst of it. But we have had a 
splendid day^s sport, so I must not complain. The 
fortune of war, you know ; and it might have been 
worse. The last bout we had, poor Tom Ferrers got 
bitten in two just as I gave the shark that did it the 
death-stroke.’^ 

" What Spartans those fellows are I ** I said. " But 
a broken leg cannot surely be cured in two or three 
weeks ? ’’ 

"Not quite ; but he will be able to hobble about in 
two or three weeks, and be quite well in five or six.” 

" In England broken legs take double that time to 
get well.” 

" Yes ; but in England you eat beef and drink beer 
and spirits.^’ 


198 


A QUEER RACBi. 


And don't you eat beef and drink beer and 
spirits ? " 

As we have no cattle we can have no beef ; and in 
the way of animal food we confine ourselves to fish, 
fowl, and venison, and eat very little even of that — 
don't care for it, in fact. While as for beer and spirits, 
one of my ancestor's first proceedings when he decided 
to settle in the island was to cast all the rum in the 
spirit-room of the Santa Anna into the sea. When he 
became Protector, he prohibited the production of strong 
drink in any shape, and the prohibition has been main- 
tained by his successors." 

You are all teetotalers, then ? " 

Teetotalers ? What is a teetotaler ? " 

Don't you know ? Ah, I was forgetting. It is a 
word of the present century. Teetotalers are people 
who religiously abstain from strong waters." 

In that case we are teetotalers, for we drink only 
nature's own water." 

And athletes," I added. Your ancestor was a 
wise man. Queen Mab. I daresay you are all the better 
without beef and beer. At any rate, you look wonder- 
fully strong and healthy, and Mr. Field tells me you 
are very long-lived. But you must remember that you 
have an exceptionally fine climate, and spend much of 
your time in the open air ; that counts for a great deal." 

^'Yes," she said, significantly, there are worse 
places to live in than the Fair Island; and though I 
should certainly like to see England " 


tHE SHARK- FIGHTERS. 


199 


Here she paused, and I seized the opportunity to 
drop a hint that I should like to see Eng’land at no 
distant date, and to inquire whether I might reckon 
on her consent to my departure and her assistance in 
getting away. But she pretended not to hear (though 
her ears were as sharp as her cousin's), and instead 
of answering, asked me to dine with her at the Queen's 
House. 

We are going to have some cock-fighting," she 
said, ^'and afterwards a dance. Our dances are, of 
course, very old-fashioned ; but you will perhaps oblige 
me by teaching us some of the steps that are now the 
mode in England." 

I bowed, and answered that I should be only ^oo 
delighted to oblige her in that or any other way ; but I 
was much put about by her refusal to grant my request 
(for that was what it amounted to). I saw that for some 
reason or other she was resolved not to let me go ; and 
for the first time I began to consider seriously whether 
it would not be possible to find a way of leaving the 
island without her knowledge, and in spite oi: her 
evident desire to detain me. Though as ignorant as 
ever of our exact whereabouts, I had gathered from the 
records that we were ^^in the west," and I felt sure 
that we were no very great distance from some part of 
the American continent. 

When I entered my room at Mr. Field's house, 
some three hours later, I found lying on my table a 
three-cornered note, on very rough paper, addressed in a 


^00 


A qUBEK KACB. 


sprawling, school^y hand to “ Mr. Erle."*^ It contained 
these words : — 

“ S/R, — The Fair Island is not good for your Health, and yowr 
Presence is not desired. You may take ten Days to make your 
Am'angements for Departure ; hut if after the Expiration of 
that Time you are still here, you are as certain as you are living 
to meet with a serious if not a fatal Accident. 


“ A PRESENT Friend, but a potential Foe.” 


“ Pleasant ! I thought, after reading this precious 
missive over a second and third time. The Queen 
refuses to let me go ; and if I stay I am to be 
murdered I 





A DANCING LESSON. 


I HATE anonymous letters. You can never tell what to 
make of them — whether they are jest or earnest, 
whether the writer really means what he says, or is 
merely amusing himself at your expense. The letter I 
had just received looked like a grim joke ; for who 
could suppose that it was possible for me to get away in 
ten days, even though the Queen and the Council of 
Nine were as willing to let me go, as they were 
notoriously unwilling? It was hardly conceivable 
that I had made an enemy already, and I could think 
of nobody who had an interest in hastening my de- 
parture. 

Yes, it must be a joke ; and yet — I felt that there 
might be something in it, after all. But if the rascally 
writer of the letter thought to frighten me, he was 
mistaken. His threat should not force me to leave the 
island a day sooner than suited my convenience, even 
though T were at full liberty to leave, and the means of 
leaving were at my disposal. 

Had I merely consulted my inclinations, and been 
able to inform my mother of my whereabouts and 
safety, 1 should have been 'quite content to make a long 


20^ A QUEER RACE. 

stay in the island. Queen Mab and her piebald people 
interested me much, and I wanted to see more of them. 
But the Diana was long past due at Monte Video ; 
unless she was soon heard of, the owners and under- 
writers must needs conclude that she was lost, with all 
on board, and my mother, who had only me, would be 
well-nigh heartbroken. It was, moreover, my duty to 
inform poor Mrs. Peyton, and the other friends of those 
who had perished, so soon as might be, of the fate that 
had befallen them ; and I could not forget that the 
longer I was absent from Liverpool the more difficult I 
should find it to obtain a situation when I got back. 
Out of sight is out of mind; and if people began to 
think me dead, they would forget me altogether. 

Yet what could I do? It seemed that without 
the Queen’s help I could do nothing. For aught I 
knew, the nearest port where it would be possible to 
obtain a passage for Europe or the West Indies might 
be hundreds of miles away. Another voyage in the 
Diana was out of the question ; but if Mab could be 
persuaded to give me an idea of the latitude and longi- 
tude of the island, and lend me the Sunflower and her 
crew, the thing might be done. It would be asking a 
great deal, since, apart from her own wishes, she could 
not send her yacht on a distant voyage without running 
counter to the prejudices of her people and the injunc- 
tions of that remarkable ancestor of hers whose will, 
though he had been dead a century, seem'ed to be still 
their law. Yet it was my only chance, and if I went 


A DANCING LESSON. 


203 


on as I had begun^ and continued to please her, I might 
eventually win her consent to my project. 

On the other hand, I felt that it would be a mistake 
to hurry matters, to weary her by importunity, or 
appear over-eager to get away. I must wait for a 
favourable opportunity to proffer my request, and it 
would be well,* if I could, to insure her help by placing 
her under an obligation. My cue, in short, was patience 
and politeness. 

Should I say anything to her — or anybody else — 
about the anonymous letter? On the whole, I thought 
not. If it were a hoax, I should only by so .doing 
expose myself to ridicule; while if an enemy were the 
writer, I should be putting him on his guard and 
making him think that I was afraid. Better keep my 
own counsel and watch and wait. 

As the note had come through the post (I did not 
know before that the island possessed a post), I had no 
«lue to the identity of the sender. It was a mystery, 
and, for the present, must remain a mystery. 

My next concern was as to how I should attire 
myself for the Queen^s ball. The evening dress of 
Europe was not the evening dress of Fair Island. The 
latter was a modification of the costume in vogue in the 
time of George II. and Sir Robert Walpole; and as the 
islanders had a weakness for bright colours, I did not 
take kindly to the idea of appearing at a festive 
entertainment in a suit of black, a colour which they 
reserved exclusively for mourning. 


£04 


A QUEER race* 


In this dilemma I consulted Field. 

" A black coat, and of that peculiar shape, too, 
would certainly make you sadly conspicuous — I might 
almost say ridiculous, he said, when I showed him my 
swallow-tail, ^^and the Queen might think you had 
mistaken her dance for a funeral. Have you nothing a 
little less sombre — a uniform, for instance 

I have my uniform as captain in a volunteer rifle 
corps.^^ (My poor mother made me bring it, rather 
against my own wish. Officers in foreign countries 
always wear their uniforms, she said, and I might find 
mine .useful ; so I brought it.) 

Where is it?"" 

“ In one of the boxes which came up from the Diana 
an hour ago."" 

^' Wear it, by all means,"’ advised my host, when he 
had seen the uniform. "Nothing could be better; and 
the Queen, who has never seen an English uniform, will 
take it as a compliment. She takes great interest in 
everything that concerns the old country, and that red 
coat will match well with your — chestnut hair."" 

This point being settled, we went to the cock-fight, 
which took place in a public pit not far from Mr. Field s 
house. A number of mains were fought, and many 
birds killed. At the outset I was rather disgusted, but 
after a while I became as excited as the rest. I had 
never seen a main fought before, and I understood for 
the first time why the sport had been so attractive for 
our ancestors, and its suppression so difficult to enforce. 


A DANCING LESSON. 


205 


Nobody showed moi*e excitement or followed the 
fortunes of the various fights with keener enjoyment 
than Queen Mab. 

A fine old English sport ! she observed to me, 
when the tournament came to an end. I hope you have 
enjoyed it.” 

It was an English sport once, but now, like bull 
and bear baiting, it is obsolete and illegal — forbidden 
by law.” 

. “Forbidden by law 1 But why? What can there 
be wrong in it ? Not having bulls and bears, we can 
bait neither the one nor the other. But cock-fighting ! 
You surprise me, Mr. Erie. Whatis England coming to? ” 
That is what a good many people used to ask 
when the sport was abolished. It was considered that 
we had no right to make the lower animals destroy each 

other for our amusement 

Excuse me, sir, but that is surely a very drivelling 
argument. You kill the lower animals to satisfy your 
appetites, yet you will not let them fight to make you 
diversion. Besides, the birds like it ; would not you, if 
you were a game-cock, rather die fighting than have 
your neck wrung and be put in a pot ? ** 

Certainly. But there were other objections. It 
was considered that public ^cock-fighting, besides being 
cruel, did harm to those who took part in it — blunted 
their feelings — demoralised them, in fact.” 

In that case I must be very much demoralised,” 
said Mab, with flashing eyes and an angry gesture; 


^06 


A QUEER RACE. 


“ fur I have taken part, as you call it, in a hundred 
cock-fights, and shall probably take part in hundreds 
more. So, according to your showing, I must be both 
demoralised and incorrigible.^^ 

^^Not at all ; anything but that/’ I returned, eager 
to repair the fault I had so stupidly committed, " You 
asked me why cock-fighting was abolished in England, 
and I was trying < to explain why. I was not giving 
these arguments as my own. Moreover, cock-fighting 
in Fair Island is one thing; cock-fighting in England 
was quite another thing. It was made a medium for 
gambling, fell into bad hands, and became a public 
nuisance. As for you, I am sure that no one who has 
ever seen Queen Mab could doubt that she was other 

than 

Here I hesitated. 

What, sir ? ** — peremptorily. 

A right noble woman. 

She smiled ; and I liked her none the less for being 
sensible to a little flattery. 

''You are coming to my ball, of course 
" Of course. 

"I am afraid you will find our dances rather old- 
fashioned ; but you shall teach us some of the new ones. 
I saw a mention in one of those illustrated papers of a 
waltz. I think I should like to waltz. Will you show 
me how ? ** 

I bowed, and said I should be delighted to teach her 
anything in my power. 


A DANCING GKSSON. 


207 


The hall was a great success. The orchestra consisted 
of a flute, a clarionet, a key-bugle, a Carib guitar, and 
a set of Pan^s-pipes. The flute seemed to be new, but 
the clarionet and bugle looked old enough to have 
belonged to the bandsmen of the Hecate or the Sarita 
Anna. Yet they produced very fair music, and though 
the men played without notes, they had a great variety 
of airs, . some of which struck me as being singularly 
wild and beautiful. 

My uniform made quite a sensation, and, judging by 
the compliments I received, it was much admired. 
Before I had been many minutes in the room I booked 
several engagements ; for as Fair Island ladies deem it 
not unmaidenly to ask men (on occasion) to be their 
partners for life, they naturally see no impropriety in 
asking them to take part in a dance. They were all 
tall, fine women ; not a few were very well-favoured, 
barring the queerness of their complexion, and two or 
three were as fair as Queen Mab herself. They were 
lively, too, and wonderfully graceful in their movements^ 
dancing with a zest and an energy unknown to th< 
languid beauties of European ball-rooms. Being 
moreover, the descendants of the Hecate’s ofiicers (th' 
descendants of able-bodied and ordinary seamen an(1 
warrant-officers not being admitted into society), thej 
were intelligent, and, considering their opportunities, 
well educated. Most of them had read Shakespeare, 
Milton, Pope, ^^Plutarch^s Lives,^^ Robinson Crusoe,^^ 
and Pamela/^ and were acquainted with the leading 


208 


A QUEEE RACE. 


facfs of European history up to about 1740. From that 
time forward, so far as regards the outer world, their 
minds, like the minds of Fair Islanders generally, were 
a blank; and it is liardly possible for those who have 
not tried it to realise the difficulty of keeping up a 
conversation with people who know nothing of George 
III. and Napoleon, Nelson and Wellington, the Reform 
Bill and Queen Victoria, the Indian Mutiny and the 
American Civil War, Bismarck and the G. O. M. ; who 
have never seen a daily newspaper, a monthly review, 
or a railway ; never heard of the United States, 
Australia, New Zealand, or the Suez Canal, lighting by 
gas or printing by steam, and whose knowledge of 
fiction is limited to Robinson Crusoe and Pamela.^' 
In these circumstances it was perhaps fortunate that 
I had little to do except answer questions, the ladies 
whose acquaintance I' made being insatiably curious. 
But I soon found that if I wanted to be believed I 
must keep back a portion of the truth. When, in 
answer to a question about the size of London, I said 
that its population was nearly four millions, and that a 
hundred thousand • strangers left and entered it every 
day, the significant smile which went round told me that 
the statement was regarded as monstrous and incredible. 
My account of the electric telegrai)h and some other 
modern scientific and mechanical achievements w-^as 
i-eceived with even greater incredulity, especially by the 
men, who, though too polite openly to doubt mv worel, 
obviously thought me an unconscionable romancer. 


A DANCING LESSON. 


:e09 

Only the Queen affected to believe me, either because 
she was naturally more intelligent than the others, or 
that she was fresh from the perusal of the books and 
periodicals which we had brought from the Diana — or 
for some other and less obvious reason. 

The first dance was a Sir Roger de Coverley, in which 
I had Mab for a partner; then followed a minuet, which, 
at her pressing instance, I attempted — with poor success, 
however. There was an immense deal of bowing on the 
part of the men, and courtesying on the part of the 
women, the latter bending so low that more than once 
disaster seemed imminent; but they always recovered 
their perpendicular with remarkable agility and grace. 
Next came a fandango, doubtless a bequest from Denzil 
Fane’s Spanish wife. After this the Queen asked me to 
show her how to waltz. She proved an apt pupil — 
acquired the step in a few minutes ; I whistled to the 
musicians a few bars of a waltz, which they picked up in 
no time, and the next moment we were whirling round 
the room — to the astonishment of all beholders. They 
had never seen anything like it before. We had a long- 
spin — Mab being in excellent wind — and when I 
escorted her to her seat, I could see by the manner of 
some of the younger men that they envied me my good- 
fortune, and that the favour shown me by the Queen 
was beginning to excite jealousy, and might make me 
enemies. Be that as it may, waltzing became the 
fashion. All wanted to learn the step at once, and I 
had very nearly as many invitations to dance as there 
O 


210 


A QUEER RACE. 


were young* women in the rouni. They voted me 
dancing- master by acclamation, and for the remainder 
of the night we did nothing in the world but waltz. 

We are infinitely obliged to you,^^ said the Queen, 
as I took my leave early in the morning. You have 
given us a new pleasure.'^ 

"He has, indeed chorused twenty voices. "We 
are all infinitely obliged to him.^^ 

" Waltzing is simply divine \ she continued. "We 
will have another ball — yes, the night after to-morrow. 
All who are here consider yourselves invited, and 
perhaps Mr. Erie, will kindly teach us something 
else.^^ 

With this request I was, of course, only too glad to 
comply. I taught them the polka and schottische, and 
we had a try at the lancers, with all of which the 
Queen and her guests were greatly delighted ; and Field 
told me that if I went on as I had begun, I should soon 
be the mo^t popular person in Fair Island. 

I wa» , moreover, often consulted by the Queen about 
the ho( ks she was reading. She found in them so 
many ' hings that were strauge to her, so many allusions 
which she did not understand, that she required almost 
conti? ual instruction, and I became actually, if not 
offici lly, the director of her studies and the superin- 
tend nt of her new education — for that she called it, 
and bhat in fact it was. 

All this augured well for the success of my scheme. 
J hardly think that after I had done so much for 


A DANCING LESSON. 


£11 


her she would refuse me the favour I intended to ask. 
Nevertheless, I hesitated and procrastinated, missing 
more than one seemingly good opportunity of preferring 
my request. Why, 1 can hardly say; partly, perhaps, 
because something told me that it was still too soon — 
that the propitious moment had not yet arrived ; partly 
because the Fair Islanders improved on acquaintance, 
and that the more I saw of them and their country the 
less I liked the idea of leaving them. 

As for the anonymous letter, 1 had come to the 
conclusion that it was either a poor joke or a piece of 
stupid spite, and though I kept the missive in my 
pocket, it very soon passed out of my mind. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


A PLASH OP LIGHTNING. 


And so things went on. For two or three weeks 
there occurred nothing to disturb the even tenor of my 
life. In llh company of Field and Amyas Fane and 
some others, nnd once with a party organised by the 
Uueen, I visited several estates and saw something of 
the interior of the island. All the piebald whites and 
most of the descendants of the former Carib chiefs 
owned plantations which they cultivated, with the help 
of slaves ; for land was so plentiful and the soil so 
fertile that very few of the,n.borigines would labour for 
hire. So far as I could see, the slaves, though not 
ill-treated, were very hard wrought, for in the absence 
of horses they had to do horses^ work. They were, 
however, comfortably lodged and well fed, and as, 
according to a law laid down by Denzil Fane, no 
bondsman could be sold without his own consent, there 
were presumably none of those cruel separations of 
families which are usually among the worst features of 
the system. Insubordination was, however, severely 
punished, rebellious slaves being hanged without cere- 
mony, and, as Field one day confided to me, the two 
races were really at bitter enmity. There had been 


A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 


213 


several partial risings repressed, as I gathered, not 
without difficulty. 

‘‘^The Calibans are our greatest trouble,^^ he said. 
** They are increasing at such a rate that they will soon 
be more numerous than ourselves, and if a rising should 
happen to coincide with an invasion of the Cariberoes, it 
would be a serious matter.^^ 

The Cariberoes ? ” 

The people whom Denzil Fane and his men helped 
to repulse when they first came to the island. The 
Calibans are their descendants, and they are very strong 
and brave, and would make desperate fighters.^' 

''What makes you think so?^^ 

" Because they are very courageous. We have had 
experience of their prowess, though not very recently. 
It was they who taught us how to fight sharks, and 
they often fight fiercely amongst themselves. Yes, the 
Cariberoes would make splendid soldiers."’^ 

" Have you any present reason to fear a rising V* 
No, I donT think we have ; still, there is no telling 
what may happen. But we are well prepared. Our 
young men are regularly drilled. You shall see a parade 
of our Archer-guard one of these days."^^ 

" Archer-guard I Are your soldiers armed only with 
bows and arrows, then 

" Necessarily. Our store of gunpowder, being very 
limited, is reserved for the artillery, which consists of 
half a dozen brass pieces, part of the Santa Anna^a 
armament. That is why I inquired whether you had 


A QUEEE RACK. 


:il4 

any gunpowder on board the Diana. But our archers 
would make no despicable foes, even when opposed to 
men armed with muskets.^^ 

Mr. Field spoke of the flint-lock muskets of the 
previous century, and when I saw the archer-guard and 
examined their weapons, I was quite of his opinion. 
None of their bows, when unstrung, was less than six 
feet in length ; and their arrows were even longer than 
the cloth-yard shafts which won for England the battles 
of Agincourt and Cre 9 y, and did such dire execution 
among the Scots at Flodden Field. The Fair Islanders, 
moreover, were splendid marksmen ; a good shot could 
easily hit a bulFs-eye at three hundred and fifty yards, 
and as easily kill a deer (or a man) at four hundred. 
Compared with theirs, the native bow was ^ very 
inferior weapon; and I felt sure, as I told Field, that 
the five hundred Archers of the Guard would be more 
than a match for three times their number of Calibans 
or Cariberoes. 

After some further conversation, I ventured to 
suggest that the danger he apprehended might be 
avoided by abolishing slavery altogether. If I had 
proposed to abolish the island and declare the memory of 
Denzil Fane accursed, he could scarcely have looked 
more horrified. 

'' Abolish slavery 1 What on earth put so prepos- 
terous an idea into your head ? Slavery is a beneficent 
institution. Scripture nowhere condemns it; the Jews 
practised it ; the Apostles approved of it ; and so far as 


A FLASH OF TJOHTNTNO. 


215 


we are concerned, my dear sir, the remedy would be 
worse than the disease. If we liberated these people, 
they would of a surety conspire against our common- 
wealth, and eudeavour to overthrow it, for they are 
fierce and truculent. Moreover, we should all have to 
become hewers of wood and drawers of water, because 
once they were free they would work only for them- 
selves."'^ 

This was conclusive, and as I could not have answered 
Mr. Field without the risk of giving serious offence, I 
allowed the subject to drop. 

In the meantime, the Biana^s cargo was being un- 
loaded and brought up to Fairhaven, but rather fitfully 
and slowly ; for the ship contained an immense quantity 
of merchandise of one sort and another, and the ware- 
house accommodation at the Qi^en^s disposal was de- 
cidedly limited. The bales and cases had to be stowed 
anywhere and everywhere, and there being no draught 
animals in the island, the labour of shifting and carry- 
ing the packages about was very great. In these cir- 
cumstances I suggested to Mab and the Council of 
Nine that it would be better to let the remainder of the 
cargo stay where it was. 

You have landed the bulk of iV^ I said; '^what 
there is left can be brought up as you want it, and when 
you want it. The ship being securely moored, it is quite 
safe where it is.^^ 

A happy thought, Mr. Erle,^' exclaimed Mab. 

Let it be so. To-morrow we will go down to the 


21H 


A QUEER RACE. 


Diana, and see for ourselves what there is left ; we 
may perchance find some more books, and you will 
perhaps be so obliging as to take out the remaining 
mirrors. Morris shall go with us.” 

Morris was a carpenter, and he had fixed up one 
mirror in the Queen^s bedroom so much to her satis- 
faction that she wanted to have all the remaining 
mirrors taken out of the saloon and fixed up in like 
manner. As for books, she was simply insatiable. She 
read anything that came to hand, but liked best some- 
thing scientific, or a novel with plenty of incident and 
a complicated plot. When once she became interested 
in a story of this sort, she would neither sleep nor at- 
tend to business until she reached the end, and woe be- 
tide the councillor who at such a time ventured to trouble 
her with affairs of State. When Mr. Thomas, a rather 
timid old gentleman, secretary to the Council, brought 
her some papers to sign while she was reading Monte 
Cristo,” and did not go away the moment he was bid, 
she half frightened the poor man to death by threaten- 
ing to set her puma at him. 

We went down to the Diana as arranged, by water 
of course. In addition to the boat^s crew and the car- 
penter, we were accompanied by Marian Lester, one of 
the Queen's maidens, and a youth of the name of Butter- 
cup, who was half page, half errand-boy. 

On reaching the ship, I looked over the manifest, on 
which I had ticked off the packages already landed, 
and, in consultation with Mab, decided what others we 


A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 


217 


should take back with us in the boat, and told the men 
to hoist them out of the hold. 

Then, while Morris was removing the mirrors, we 
took a turn round the ship, and made an inspection of 
the cabins, on the chance of finding anything likely to 
be useful and worth carrying away ; for we did not 
intend to make another visit to the ship for some 
time. 

In the captain’s cabin were a thermometer and a 
barometer. 

'' We will have these,^^ I said, looking at them. 
“ This is a self-registering thermometer, and I want to 
ascertain the average temperature of Fairhaven; and 
the barometer may prove very Useful. It gives warn- 
ing of storms. Do you ever have storms ?” 

** Sometimes, and very bad ones. But they don't 
often take us by surprise. I have nearly always a 
premonition of them ; so have others." 

I suppose you can tell by the look of the sky and 
the direction and force of the wind ? " 

The Queen laughed. 

The look of the sky and the force of the wind ! " 
she said. Why, when the clouds gather and the wind 
rises the storm has begun. These are signs which 
children may read. What I mean is, that before any 
sign is visible, while the heavens are still clear, the sea 
still calm, something tells me — I know not what; it is 
a feeling, a foreboding — that within a few hours the 
weather will change for the worse." - 


A QUEER RACE. 


That comes from increase of pressure/* I said. 

You are sensitive to atmospheric conditions.^^ 

I don*t know how that is. I daresay you are 
right/* she returned, pensively. But I have exactly 
the same feeling when people are thinking evil against 
me.** 

But that is not possible. Nobody can think evil 
against you ! ** 

Yet such a thing has happened, my friend. Fair 
Island is very beautiful, and its people are happy, but 
they are not all good. And lately — the last few days 
— I have had a foreboding. . . For three nights past, 
Cato, who, as you know, sleeps always at my chamber 
door, has growled fiercely, as if he scented danger ; and 
this morning I was wakened by Denzil Fane*s sword 
falling from the wall and clashing on the floor ; and, 
worse still, it broke off at the hilt. Nothing could be 
i))ore ominous of evil — and then this foreboding, the 
like of which for intensity I have never experienced 
before ** 

Here she came to an abrupt stop. 

A foreboding of what ? ** I asked. 

I had already discovered that the islanders were 
Bomevvhat superstitious; but I thought Mab knew 
better than to believe in signs, omens, and presenti- 
ments, or attach importance to the falling of a sword or 
the growling of a puma. 

A foreboding of danger.'* 

To whom ? ** 


A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 


219 


'^To myself, to the Commonwealth, and to you, 
Mr. Erle.^’ 

Why tome? 

know not. But I am sure that the danger 
which threatens me threatens you also. The foreboding 
weighs heavily on my soul, yet whence it comes or 
how it is caused I cannot say. When we return to 
Fairhaven I will consult Sybil.^' 

'' Who is Sybil?'' 

** The oldest and wisest woman in the island ; the 
only one to whom it is given to interpret dreams and 
foretell events." 

A very useful woman to know, I should like to 
ask her a few questions about myself. My own future - 
is decidedly obscure at present. Perhaps she could 
throw a little light on it," I said, with mock gravity. 

It is only when she is in the mood that Sybil can 
discern the shadow of coming events," returned. Mab, 
coldly, and almost sternly, as if she resented the 
scepticism which my remark implied. The prophetic 
mantle rests not always on her shoulders. But you 
shall see her, and then you can judge for yourself. And 
now let us go on with our inspection." 

As we passed through one of the berths — I think 
it was poor Bulnois’s — I saw a carpet-bag in one 
corner. 

'' What is here ? " I said, opening it. 

Books I exclaimed the Queen. ** Let us see what 
they are." 


A QUEER RACE. 


UO 

So I carried tlie ba,g into the saloon, and emptied on 
the table at least a score of volumes, the greater part of 
them novels. 

'' There ! I said, taking up a copy of '' The 
Woman in White.” You have only to begin reading 
this, and you will forget all about your melancholy 
forebodings, and the supposed dangers which a too 
active imagination has conjured up.” 

Is it very interesting ? ” she asked, with sparkling 

eyes. 

Very.” 

I will begin it at once ; ” she said, and suiting 
the action to the word, she sat down, and opening 
the volume, settled herself for a good read. Let me 
know when the boat is ready.^' 

An hour later the boat was ready, but so crowded 
with bales, cases, and one thing and another, that it 
was evident she could not take us all back at one trip. 

On this I went below to the Queen, whom I found 
deep in Wilkie Collinses thrilling romance, and after 
explaining the difficulty we were in, suggested that 
she and her pei*sonal attendants should go off in the 
boat, and that two of the men and myself would wait on 
board until another could be sent to take us off. 

''No ; let the people go. They can send a boat for 
us when they get to Fairhaven — I mean for you, 
myself, Marian, and Buttercup.” 

" It cannot be here for two hours, and in much less 
time than that it will be dark.” 


A FLASH OP LIGHTNING. 




^ T am not afraid of the dark. You have lamps, I 
suppose ? 

Yes, we have lamps ; still ** 

Let the boat ^o, I say ! ” and the next moment 
her head was again bent over her book. 

I went on deck, gave orders for the boat to shove off, 
and told the coxswain to send another for us with all 
speed, the instant he arrived. This done, I lighted a 
cigar and paced to and fro, absorbed in thought, until 
the thickening twilight warned me that it was time to 
trim the saloon lamp. 

Mab was still reading, nor until I lighted the lamp 
which swung over her head did she look up. 

Thank you, she said; and then turning round, 
looked intently through one of the ports towards the 
almost departed sun. There is going to be a storm, 
she added, wistfully. 

Why should you think so ? I asked. '' The sky 
is perfectly clear, and there is hardly a breath of wind.^^ 

You will see. I hope it won^t be more than a 
storm — a tempest, I mean. But there is a feeling in 

the air Is the ship quite fast — safely moored, I 

mean 

** Quite. I looked to that the moment I came on 
board.^^ 

Good ! We are safe, then. The boat will be here 
in an hour. That will be time enough,^'' and then she 
took up her book again, and I went once more on deck. 

The short twilight had now almost deepened into 


222 


A QIIEEU RACE. 


darkuess, and 1 was quite alone, Marian being with her 
mistress, and Buttercup fast asleep in a corner of 
the saloon. I lighted another cigar, and was about to 
resume my solitary walk where I had left it off, when it 
occurred to me to verify the Queen^s weather-forecast by 
glancing at the barometer. 

The result was startling. The mercury had fallen 
^several points since I last looked at it — that is to say, 
in three hours. 

Gad, she is right ! I thought ; we are in for a 
storm, and no mistake — a regular ripper ! I hope it 
won^t burst before we get back to Fairhaven. The creek 
is certainly not the open sea, and we are safely moored. 
All the same, I would rather be on dry land for choice.^' 

I looked round, for, as yet, the darkness was far 
from being absolute. Myriads of stars studded the 
sky, and the sea was phosphorescent. The creek shone 
like a river of molten gold, and as the tide (thereabouts 
very strong) ebbed rapidly past, fiery wavelets broke on 
the shore and dashed merrily against the sides. 
The mountain, its summit pointing towards the Southern 
Cross, loomed large and silent under the vaulted sky, 
like some monstrous genie guarding hidden treasure, 
or a giant sentinel keeping watch over the sleeping island 
that nestled at its base. 

Westward, as well as northward and southward, the 
calm was complete, and anything more superb than 
the orb-gemmed heavens and the shining sea it were 
impossible to imagine ; but out of the mist and beyond 


A b'LASH OF LIGHTNING. 


tm 


the Painted Rocks were beginning* to creep ominous 
shadows — shadows that swiftly took the form of clouds, 
and spreading pall-like over the sky, swallowed up the 
stars and turned the water to an inky blackness. 

It became so dark that 1 had to grope my way to 
the binnacle, intent on lighting the lantern, as without 
something to denote our whereabouts the people who 
were coming to fetch us oft would be unable to find the 
ship. There was a peculiar feeling in the atmosphere, 
too, that made me think it was strongly charged with 
electricity. My temples throbbed as if they would 
burst, and when T pushed my hand through my hair 
I could hear it crackle. 

I had reached the binnacle, and was feeling about for 
the lantern, when a terrific peal of thunder crashed 
over the mountain, and a long, vivid flash of forked 
lightning rent the clouds asunder, bringing every object 
which it illumined into sharpest relief. It did not last 
the hundredth part of a second, yet I saw everything — 
the creek, the sea, the tall masts of the Diana, the very 
leaves quivering on the trees — and the Jigure of a man 
cutting one of the roggee hy which the ship was moored to 
the shore / 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


A TERRIBLE NIGHT. 

I SAW it distinctly— a man hacking at the rope with a 
long knife ; and if his back had not been turned towards 
me I should have seen his face — possibly recognised him. 
Yet I could hardly believe my eyes. I thought they 
had deceived me, and tried to persuade myself that I 
was the victim of an optical illusion. But my doubts 
were quickly and rudely dispelled. The next moment 
the ship swung round, and the second rope, unable to 
withstand the strain, or perhaps weakened by the slash 
of another knife, parted with a report like the shot of a 
pistol, and the Biana was adrift. 

I ran to the helm without any definite idea of what 
I should do, for I knew how helpless we were, and 
I feared we should be dashed against the opposite side 
of the creek. It was, perhaps, the best thing that 
could happen to us ; if we were carried out into the bay 
we should be past praying for. Just then I heard the 
sound of hurried footsteps. 

What has happened, Mr. Erie ? Where are you 
asked a voice which I recognised as that of Queen Mab. 

At the wheel. Somebody has cut the ropes, and 
the ship is adrift.^^ 


A TERRIBLE NIGHT. 


225 


Somebody has cut the ropes ? What do you mean ? 
How do you know ? 

When the lightning flashed just now, I saw a man 
cutting the stern-rope. 

“ Saw you his face ? ** 

** No.^' 

** You have no idea who he was, then?^’ 

Not the least.’” 

** Somebody was thinking evil against us, then, 
and plotting it. My foreboding has soon come true ; 
yet 3'ou did not believe it, Mr. Erie.” 

“ You were right, too, about the weather,” I answered, 
evasively. The barometer has gone down rapidly, and 
we are going to have a night of it. My God ! ” 

Another blinding flash of lightning, followed by an 
even more terrific peal of thunder than the first. At 
the same time a violent gust of wind, coming down the 
channel of the creek as through a funnel, drove the ship 
before it like a straw, and almost threw her on her beam- 
ends. 

Mabel was now close by me, holding on to the 
binnacle. 

** How will it end? I mean, what is likely to be 
our fate ?” she asked, quietly, and with no more fear in 
her voice than if she were putting an ordinary question. 

Drowning is likely to be our fate. Even if the 
ship were manned by a full crew, and commanded by a 
skilful captain, we should be in great danger; and there 
is only one man on board, and he no seaman.” 


A QUEEl? RACK. 


9.‘Z6 

If it is God^s will for us to perisli, so be it. He 
knows best, and we can die but once. We cannot 
escape our destiny.^’ 

This answer, spoken with measured gravity, sur- 
prised me exceedingly. Never before had I heard Mab 
mention religion. I had thought her practically a 
pagan, though she did go to church sometimes. 

^^We cannot escape our destiny,’^ she repeated. 

Still, I like not to yield without a struggle. It is our 
duty to live as long as we can. Must we drift help- 
lessly on ? Can you think of no expedient ? There is 
surely an anchor ? 

Of course there is. What an ass I am ! Why 
didiiT I think of that before ? But I told you I was 
no seaman. Yes, we will let go the anchor — if we can — 
and put a light in the mizzen-top, and then, when the 
boat comes, it may perhaps be seen, and ourselves 
rescued.'*^ 

But the idea was much more easily conceived than 
carried out. A light was indispensable, and after 
several unsuccessful attempts to obtain one from a 
match, we were compelled to go into the saloon, and 
there light a lantern. Then, followed by Marian and 
Buttercup, we made our way forward with great diffi- 
culty, for the ship was rolling like a log, and the decks 
were wet and slippery with the whirling spray, which 
lashed our faces and impeded our progress. 

It was an exciting moment: Mab clinging to the 
capstan and holding up the lantern; Marian and the 


A TEREIBLE NIGHT. 


m 

boy cowering behind a coil of ropes; myself, maul in 
hand, groping for the pin by which the chain is fastened 
to the ring of the anchor. 

After a good deal of hammering — for I made several 
bad shots — I succeeded, though more by good luck than 
address. The anchor dropped into the sea, and the huge 
cable flew through the hawse-hole in a sheet of flame. 
What with the wind and tide, the ship had a good deal 
of way on her ; and when the anchor took ground, she 
brought-to with a shock that shook her like a leaf, 
dashed the lantern from Mab’s hand, and sent me 
sprawling into the scupper. 

We had to find our way aft in the dark — no easy 
task, for the force of the wind increased every minute, 
and the ship heaved and rolled viciously. 

Can we do anything more ? asked Mab, when 
we were all in the saloon. She had lost her hat ; her 
dishevelled hair was damp with spray ; her face flushed 
with exposure to the storm, her eyes aglow with excite- 
ment; and as she stood there near the swinging-lamp, 
erect and fearless, she looked wondrously handsome. 

The only thing more we can do,^^ I said, is tc 
hang a lantern in the mizzen-top ; not that 1 think it 
will be of any use. No boat could live in this sea ; but 
it is well not to throw away a chance.^^ 

How long do you suppose we shall have to remain 
here, then ? 

That depends on how long the storm lasts ; but at 
any rate until sunrise/' 

V % 


228 


A QUEEE RACE. 


In that case I may as well resume my interrupted 
novel. If any change takes place either for the better 
or worse, Mr. Erie, kindly let me know.^^ And with 
that she sat down and went on with her reading as uncon- 
cernedly as if she had been in her own room at Eairhaven. 

As for me, I lighted another lantern, and after at 
least three narrow escapes of falling overboard, suc- 
ceeded in fixing it securely in the mizzen-top. 

This done, I returned to the quarter-deck and re- 
mained there — I cannot say on the look-out, as there 
was nothing to be seen — for I had an uneasy feeling 
that something would happen, and not for the better. 
The wind continued to- bio win gusts so fierce that I was 
more than once nearly carried over the taffrail. I could 
not have made my way to the fore- part of the ship to 
save my life; and though the cable was invisible, I 
knew that the strain on it must be terrific. And the 
wind did not always come from the same quarter. 
Several times it veered completely round, the ship veer- 
ing with it, till at last (being unable to see the compass) 
I had not the most remote idea in which direction lay 
the land. This went on some hours, and about mid- 
night (as nearly as I could tell) what I dreaded came to 
pass — the anchor began to drag. At first I thought I 
might be mistaken, but when I felt sure that the ship 
moved I went below and informed Mab. 

I am not surprised/^ she said, laying down her 
book. " This wind would move anything. What shall 
we do ? 


i. TERRIBLE NIGHT. 


£29 


** Wait the issue of events. What else can we do ? 
We are helpless. It is impossible to let go another 
anchor.^' 

That settles the question. Well, if we cannot 
struggle, we may at least hope. Whither are we 
moving ? 

I don^t know. I have not another lantern. One 
was broken in the bows ; another is at the mizzen-top. 
The rest must have been taken ashore. I only hope we 
are not moving towards the island. In that case it 
won'^t be long before the ship is dashed to pieces."’^ 

‘‘And if we are moving towards the Painted Rocks 
it will be still worse.^^ 

“ Perhaps. But we shall be longer in getting 
there.'' 

We are between Scylla and Charybdis." 

“ Very much so ; and if the cable parts But we 

may possibly keep on dragging until the wind goes 
down, and that, I take it, is our sole hope, if you can 
call it hope.” 

“ At any rate, there is hope ; and while hope exists 
despair would be a crime. I don't despair ; do you ? ” 

“ It would be a crime if I did, with such an example 
of high courage before me." 

This was no mere compliment. In truth, she bore 
herself so bravely, and looked so bright and serene 
withal, that I could not for very shame allow myself to 
be discouraged, although, to tell the truth, I should 
have been sorry (speaking professionally) to insure the 


^0 


A QUEER RACE. 


ship or our own lives for a premium of ninety-five per 
cent. 

You are surely not going on deck again ? she 
said, as I made towards the companion. You can do 
no good, and you must be very tired. Sit down here 
and rest awhile.^^ 

The Queen was right. My presence on deck just 
then could serve no useful purpose, so I gladly accepted 
her invitation ; and I was so overcome with excitement 
and fatigue that I had hardly sat down when I fell fast 
asleep. 

I must have slept a long time, for I was awakened 
by Mab telling me that day was breaking, and suggest- 
ing that we had better go on deck. 

The storm was still raging, the anchor still dragging, 
and all round was a wild waste of angry water lashed 
into foam by the fierce and fitful wind. On one side of 
us lay the island, shrouded in gloom ; on the other were 
faintly visible the Painted Rocks, against which the 
waves were beating with a long, hollow roar like that of 
distant thunder. The sun was above the horizon, 
shining through a deep rift in the heavy clouds, like a 
fiery ball at the bottom of a hole, and throwing a ruddy 
glare over the heaving sea. 

It was a grand, yet dreary and awful scene, and 
though Mab still looked calm and confident, and I tried 
to be hopeful, I saw no way of escape. The ship being 
invisible from the shore, we could expect no help from 
that quarter, even if a boat could have weathered the 


A TKKRIBLK \nOHT. 


281 


storm ; and, unless I was much mistaken, we were a 
long way past Fairhaven and the creek. The Diana 
was moving in a direction nor^-west by west — that is to 
say, obliquely towards the Painted Rocks. The rate of 
her progress was regulated by the wind ; when it blew 
hard she went fast ; when the wind fell off, as it did at 
intervals, she became almost stationary. But, at the 
utmost, we could not count on a respite of more than 
three or four hours ; and once among the Painted Rocks, 
our doom would be sealed. The ship must needs go to 
pieces at once, and the strongest swimmer in the world 
could not resist the impact of those terrible waves. 
The storm, moreover, showed no sign of abatement, and 
as the barometer was as low as ever, we could not count 
on any change for the better before night — perhaps not 
even then. 

Not a very cheerful outlook/’ said Mab, after a 
long silence, during which her thoughts had doubtless 
been of the same colour as my own. ^^Nevertheless, I 
have a strong feeling that we shall escape, though I 
confess I donT see how ; and, as you know, my pre- 
sentiments have a way of coming true. And I dreamt, 
a little while ago, as I slept in the saloon, that I saw a 
rainbow.'’^ 

You consider that a good omen 

How could you wish for a better ? And, see, there 
is a rainbow ! ” 

It wavS true. Rain had begun to fall, and over the 
rocks and the mist, and, as it seemed, touching them 


232 


A QTJEEK RACE. 


both_, hung a most beautiful bow. But only for a 
moment ; a black cloud passed before the sun, and the 
sign vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. 

Keep up your courage, Mr. Erie ! exclaimed Mab. 
" I am now sure that we shall escape. The rainbow 
was sent to give us new hope.^^ 

Hardly had she spoken, when, as if to belie her 
words, the wind, which had lately fallen off a little, 
rose again, and the Diana drifted more rapidly than 
before. Nearer and nearer she drove towards the fatal 
rocks, and the din of the waves beating against them, 
and the roar of the storm, were so great that we could 
not hear each other speak. It seemed as if nothing on 
earth could prevent our destruction. But as we drew 
within a mile of the barrier, the wind lulled once 
more, and the anchor ceased to drag. 

Death now literally stared us in the face. When the 
next gust came we should not have five minutes to live. 

I went forward to the bows to look at the cable. It 
was all paid out, and as rigid as a bar of iron. I was 
watching it intently, and wondering how near it was to 
the breaking strain,^^ when Mab joined me. 

"What do you think of the rainbow now ? I said. 
" It does not appear to have done us much good.^^ 

" I shall not give up hope, Mr. Erie, until the ship 
is on those rocks and I find myself in the water,^;^ was 

the undaunted answer; "and even then Good 

heavens ! what is that ? 


" Where ? 


A TERRtBLiC JjIGKf. 




Beyond the Painted Rocks.” 

I looked, but saw nothin"’ ; and then, remembering 
how much sharper were the Queen’s eyes than mine, I 
had recourse to my glass. Well might she exclaim and 
stand with outstretched arm and blanched face. A 
great wall of water, black and solid, higher than the 
Painted Rocks, higher than the Blana^s masts, was 
coming out of the mist and sweeping swiftly towards 
us. 

For a moment I was too much taken aback either to 
think or speak. I was lost in astonishment and dread. 

But by a strong effort I recovered my presence o^ 
mind. 

It must be a tidal wave,^^ I said. I have often 
heard of them, but this is the first I ever saw. If it 
strikes us while the ship is at anchor we shall go under 
and never come up again ; I am enough of a sailor to 
know that.^’ 

What will you do, then ? 

Slip the cable and trust to Providence." 

^'Well said, Mr. Erie. Can I do anything to help 
you?" 

^'Yes; there is only one hatch open. Shut it, and 
tell Marian and Buttercup to stay where they are. Then 
lash yourself firmly to something." 

All this passed in a few seconds, and I stood by, 
maul in hand, ready to slip the cable, taking care not to 
do it too soon, lest the ship should drive on the rocks 
before we were overtaken by the wave. As it leaped 


284 


A QUEER RACE. 


over them I knocked the pin out of the shackle. Away 
flew the cable, and without a moment’s delay I lashed 
myself to the capstan. Mab had fastened herself to the 
fore-mast. 

What happened next I can hardly tell. The huge 
wave curled over us, then a cascade of green water fell 
on the deck, and for a minute or two all was darkness. 
We were under water, and I verily thought the ship was 
going to the bottom ; but she came up again like a 
strong swimmer after a deep dive, and sometimes on her 
beam-ends, sometimes stern foremost, rolling, pitching, 
j>lunging, gyrating like a twig on a millstream, was 
carried madly forward on the crest of that mighty 
wave. 

I began to think we were out of the frying-pan into 
the fire ; for to be flung ashore at the speed we were going 
would be quite as bad as falling foul of the Painted Rocks. 

The coast towards which we were driving w^as strange 
to me~a part of the island I had not seen before — low^ 
and thiclriy w^ooded, and I saw no signs of life or 
cultivation. On sped the wave, as remorseless as fate ; 
it rushed u[) a sandy beach, carried us over the tree- tops, 
and finally left the Diana high and dry, str^ded in a 
ravine at least two miles from the shore. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


SAVED. 

We were saved, but I was so dazed with the speed at 
which we had driven, the rolling of the ship, the rush 
of the wave, and the tumult of the storm, so over- 
wrought with excitement and suspense, that it took me 
some time to realise the fact and to make sure that the 
sea had done its worst,* and that I might safely unloose 
myself from the capstan. 

So soon as I fully recovered my senses, my first 
thought was of Queen Mab. She was still lashed to 
the foremast — like myself, drenched to the skin; her 
long black hair, which reached to her waist, hanging 
loose over her shoulders. 

^^Let me release you,^^ I said. '^We are aground 
on dry land, or land that soon will be dry.^' 

We are safe, then ? 

Quite.^^ 

''Thank Heaven she exclaimed, fervently. "This 
has indeed been an ordeal. Beforetime I had persuaded 
myself that when my hour came I should not fear to 
die; but as that wave struck us and the water came 
over me, and I felt as if we were going down, down, 
and should see the bright sun, my beautiful Fair Tslapd, 


A QUEER RACE. 




and those I love ** — here she looked at me strangely — * 
" never more, I knew what was meant by the bitterness 
of death. Yes, I am glad the danger is past; and I 
have to thank you, and I do. But where are we ? 

** That is more than I can tell — somewhere on the 
island, I suppose ? 

We must be. But^^ — putting her hand over her 
eyes and looking intently round — “ I do believe — yes — 
this is Swamp Island.^^ 

Swamp Island ! What is Swamp Island 
^'An unwholesome swamp, at the south-western 
corner of Fair Island, from which it is separated by a 
narrow channel, and inhabited nnly by snakes and 
alligators. Nobody ever comes here, and we are a long 
way from Fairhaven. We have almost made the circuit 
of the island ; the Painted Rocks are no longer in sight. 
But let us go below and see how Marian and Buttercup 
have fared since we fastened them up.^^ 

I had already noticed that Mab looked pale and 
worn, and I now saw that she was weak. As we 
walked aft she had to lean on me for support. 

" You are ill ? I asked, anxiously. 

** I shall be better in a few minutes. For the first 
time in my life I feel faint.^' 

No wonder, after all you have gone through. Any 
other woman would be more dead than alive. Why, it 
must be twenty-four hours since you tasted food ! ** 

You have fasted quite as long.” 

Never mind me. I have been too anxious and 


SAVED. 


237 


excited to think about eatiug* ; but now I am beginning 
to feel terribly peckish ** 

‘^What?^" 

Peckish^ is a modern colloquialism. It means 
hungry. The one thing needful just now is grub.'' 

''Grub?" 

" I beg your pardon ; I mean food. I think there 
are a few tins of preserved meat still on board. I must 
look them up at once." 

By this time we had reached the saloon. Marian 
and Buttercup were alive, but very haggard and limp, 
and only just recovering from the worst agonies of sea- 
sickness. They were so ill, in fact, that my announce- 
ment that we were aground and out of danger did not 
seem to interest them in the least ; all they wanted was 
to be quiet. As for eating 1 the veiy idea was enough 

to So, in the interest of all parties, I proposed 

that Marian should lie down in one of the berths and 
let Mab have her clothes while Mab's were drying in 
the sun, for the clouds were now dispersing, and the 
weather taking up. 

" But what will you do ? " said the Queen. " You 
are quite as wet as I am." 

Oh, I shall easily find a rig-out. I can don some 
sailor’s togs while mine dry." 

"'Rig-out,' ' togsl'" repeated Mab, with a puzzled 
look. "You speak in riddles, Mr. Erie. I don’t under- 
stand." 

" Of course you don't. I am always forgetting that 


28 S 


A qUEER EACH. 


you are not familiar with modem colloquial English. I 
mean clothes, garments.^^ 

** Good ! ^ Rig- out ^ is expressive, I think. I will 

go and rig myself out in Marianas togs. You will go 
and rig yourself out in some other body^s togs ; and if 
after that you will kindly find some grub I shall be 
extremely obliged, for I feel awfully peckish. Is that 
the correct thing ? ” 

“ You could not express yourself more correctly, 
Queen Mab, if you had been finished^ in a London 
boarding-school,^^ I answered, with a bow. 

She responded to the compliment with a gratified 
smile, and went away with Marian, while I betook my- 
self to another part of the ship. 

I had no difficulty in finding what I wanted in the 
way of clothes, and in the way of food I was fortunate 
enough to unearth several tins of preserved meat and 
preserved vegetables, a tin of biscuits, as well as some 
cheese and salt beef. There was tea, too, and I told 
Buttercup (he could hardly crawl, poor fellow, but I 
thought it would do him more good than going to bed) 
to light the galley fire and set the kettle on j and half 
an hour later the Queen and I were eating as only 
people who have fasted twenty-four hours can eat. 

When we had taken the edge off our appetites we 
took to discussing our plans. Mab had only a vague 
idea of the distance from Swamp Island to Fairhaven. 
There are few roads in the remoter parts of Fair Island, 
;ind no milestones. She thought it was about three 


SAVED. 


239 


days^ journey. The best way would be to go by sea. 
As, however, we bad, unfortunately, no boat, that was 
out of the question. But once on the mainland we 
should fall in with villages and plantations, where we 
could obtain shelter and help. Mab, being of opinion 
that the channel which divided the two islands was but 
a few miles away, proposed to set out at once. To this 
I demurred. It was now the hottest time of the day. 
\Ye were all very tired ; we neither knew exactly how 
far it was to the channel, nor how far we should have to 
go on the. other side before reaching a settlement. 

Better stay all night where we are,^^ I said, and 
start at sunrise in the morning; the more especially as 
the channel being no doubt a tidal one, we may have to 
wait some time before we are able to cross.^^ 

You are quite right. Let it be as you say. We 
shall be all the better for a good night^s rest. At the 
same time, I am very anxious to get back to Fairbaven 
as soon as possible. They are sure to think I am dead, 
and in that case there may be bad work.^' 

Bad work ? 

^^Yes, bad work — trouble. Amyas Fane is my 
natural successor, and in the ordinary course of things 
should become Protector in my stead. But the Council 
of Nine have a right of veto, and they may reject him 
in favour of my second cousin, Oliver Fane.'^ 

I know him — he was among the shark-fighters — a 
very fine young fellow. Still, I don^t quite understand 
why they should prefer him to the other.” 


240 A QUEER race. 

''He is better liked tban the other, and I think he is 
a better man. I like Amyas ; he has many good 
qualities: but, to tell the truth, he does not inspire me 
with implicit confidence. He is ambitious and master- 
ful, and, I fear, not always sincere.^^ 

" 1 see. You think that if the Council preferred 
Oliver, Amyas would refuse to accept their decision.^^ 

I think it is very likely 
" And then ? ** 

" There might be trouble, confusion, strife, perhaps 
bloodshed, all which my return would of course prevent. 
While we were afloat I did not think about it. My 
mind was too full of other things ; it never occurred 
to me that we should be cast away so far from home, 
and in circumstances which would make it appear that 
we had perished. But now I see clearly that the con- 
sequences may be very serious. Amyas has friends, and 
Oliver has friends, and both are brave and impetuous. 
Y"es, Mr. Erie, I am very anxious to get back.^^ 

I can well believe it, and we must get back with 
all possible speed. But we shall gain rather than lose 
by delaying our departure until to-morrow morning. 
And are you not taking the matter rather too seriously ? 
We shall be back in two or three days — at the outside 
in four — and in that time no great harm can be done. 
They will surely seek for us; because the Diana has 
disappeared, it does not follow that we are all drowned, 

and Amyas could not decently ** 

Here I pulled up short, for a startling suspicion had 


SAVET). 


flashed suddenly into my mind, an idea to which I 
hesitated to give utterance. 

** Well/^ said Mab, what were you going to say 

“ Nothing particular. Only that I was sure Amyas 
would not take any steps — would not attempt to assume 
the protectorate till* he had assured himself that — ^you 
were not living.^' 

That is not what you were going to say I ” she 
exclaimed, imperiously. ‘‘ Tell me at once ; I insist on 
knowing I 

“ You cannot make a man tell you his thoughts, 
Queen MaU,^’ I answered, quietly. ‘‘ Suppose I admit 
that you are right, that I was going to say something 
else, how are you to know that I am telling you my real 
thoughts, after all ? I may tell you something else.'^ 

But you will tell me your real thoughts, Mr. Erie. 
You have a right to be offended. I was too absolute; 
I insisted when I ought to have besought. Tell me 
frankly what was in your mind. You may be sure 
I shall not abuse your confidence, and I — I will give you 
mine.'' 

She spoke softly, almost caressingly; and when 
Mab lowered her voice, it was singularly sweet and 
musical. I had already half resolved to speak out; " 
and even if I had not, it would hardly have been jx>s- 
sible to refuse a request so graciously made. 

Well, my thought was this — it came unbidden — 
take it for what it is worth ; I daresay you will deem it 
very absurd. It referred to your cousin — Amyas. 

Q 


242 - 


A QUEER RACE. 


You said just now that he is ambitious and insincere. 
That means he is not too scrupulous. Now, ambitious 
and unscrupulous men do strange things sometimes. 
Is it possible that he had anything to do with cutting 
the Diana loose — that his was the figure revealed tn 
me by the flash of lightning ? ** 

Mab started and turned pale, and her eyes were 
troubled. 

I should be soriy to think so,^' she said, hesi- 
tatingly ; yet still There are many things in his 

conduct lately And, to tell the truth — I said I would 

be frank with you — the same suspicion has occurred to 
me, yet vaguely, and I thrust it from me. I would not 
listen to the promptings of my own mind ; would not 
have it that a Fane could be a traitor ; and I have been 
so kind to him. One favour only I refused him. Yet 
nothing is impossible, and as the suspicion occurred also 
to you, there must be something in it. Yes, Amyas is 
the man, or, if he be not, he knows who is.^^ 

Don-’t let us go too fast, Queen Mab. Suspicion 
is not proof, remember ; and we are a long way yet 
from connecting your cousin with the crime. But there 
is something else. A few weeks ago I received an 
anonymous letter. Deeming it a sorry jest, or an empty 
threat, I said nothing about it ; but now it is only right 
that you should know.^^ 

An anonymous letter ! Where is it ? ** 

** Here ! — taking it from my pocket and handing 
it to her. 


SAVED. 


243 

She read and re-read the letter with knitted brows 
several timeSj her face growing darker with every 
perusal. Then she struck the paper with her hand and 
sprang excitedly to her feet. 

I know not who wrote this letter/^ she exclaimed ; 
'' the handwriting is disguised ; nevertheless, I will find 
out. Sybil shall tell me. But this I know ; the hand 
which wrote it is the same that cut the Diana adrift. 
It is a vile plot. They — I say they, for there may be 
more than one — they saw that in yon I had found a new 
friend, a friend whom I could trust; and they wanted 
to get rid of you, to frighten you away, before trying to 
get rid of me. There is but one man in the country 
who is capable of contriving such a plot, and he is the 
only man who would profit by its success — my cousin 
Amyas. It is more serious than I thought. Depend 
upon it, he will not wait for the verification of my 
death before proclaiming himself Protector. No crisis 
so grave has occurred since Dcnzil Fane founded the 
commonwealth, whose ruler I am, and whose ruler, 
please God, I will remain. But I am only a woman. 
I shall want counsel and help. You will stand by me, 
Mr. Erie — you will be my friend ? " 

These words, delivered with much fire and anima- 
tion, moved me strangely. I took her hand and kissed 
it, and before I knew what I was saying I had protested 
that I would stand by her to the death. 

'' I know you will,'' she said, smiling ; ** and after- 
wards--r-when the danger is past — you will find that 

q 2 


A QVEKR BACB. 


^44 

Queen Mab can be grateful ; anything in her power— 
You have only to ask/^ 

Shall I ask her about going away ? I thought. 
''I shall never have a better chance.^^ But before I 
could make up my mind Buttercup (who had been lying 
down in one of the cabins) came into the saloon, and 
the opportunity was lost. 

Poor boy ! exclaimed Mab, compassionately, 
you look very hungry ; sit down and eat something.^' 

Buttercup required no second asking, and having a 
good deal of leeway to make up, he devoured nearly 
everything before him. He was a tall lad of fourteen, 
a descendant of one of the Hecate* a midshipmen, won- 
derfully good-natured, and very devoted to his mistress, 
with whom he was a great favourite. 

'' Whither are you going, Mr. Erie ? ** she asked, as 
I went towards the companion. 

'‘To prepare for our journey. We shall have to 
provision ourselves for at least a day ; and there are a 
few things I should like to take with us ; among others, 
a couple of rifles and a revolver and some cartridges. 
It would be a pity to leave them behind. They might 
prove very useful — in certain eventualities.^^ 

“ So they might. Let us take them, by all means. 
And the books. I should be very sorry to leave the 
books.'' 

"Well, we will do our best. But books are heavy 
things to carry." 

" Never mind. I can carry them," put in Butter- 


SAVED. 


245 


cup, lookings up from his plate. ** I could carry twice 
as many, and other things, too, if you want. They 
don^t weigh above a hundredweight.^' 

'' Thank you, George," said Mah. '' I know you 
are both strong and willing. All the same, we must 
not burden you too heavily ; for we have a long journey 
before us. I think I should like to be able to load and 
fire a rifle, Mr. Erie. Will you be my teacher?" 

I answered, of course, in the affirmative, and fetch- 
ing one of the weapons, I explained its mechanism, and 
showed her how to insert the cartridge, take aim, and 
fire. We then went on deck, and I let her burn a dozen 
cartridges — I did not think we could afford to waste 
more. Mab approved herself an exceedingly apt pupil, 
and I told her— what was indeed the truth — that with 
a little practice she would make an excellent shot. 


CHAPTEE XXV. 


SAVED AGAIN. 

All out preparations were completed before we turned 
in, and so soon as it was light enough to see our way we 
set out on our journey. 

Our burdens were pretty equally divided. I carried 
the cartridges (which were pretty heavy), the revolver, 
one of the rifles, tools, cooking utensils, and some twine, 
rope, and nails. Mab absolutely insisted on carrying 
the second rifle, and she and Marian also carried the 
greater part of the provisions. Buttercup, as he proposed, 
carried the books in two bags, which he slung over hi? 
shoulder. He could have carried more, but, though 
strong, he was only a lad, after all, and I knew, from 
my experience as a volunteer and a pedestrian rambler, 
that a pack weighs a good deal heavier at the end of a 
march than at the beginning. 

My plan was to make straight for the sea-shore and 
follow the coast until we came to the channel, then 
follow that until vve found a ford. 

Failing a ford, I meant to extemporise a raft. 

We got on better than I expected. The tidal wave 
had opened a broad track down to the sea, and the sand 
on the shore, being firm and hard, made very good 


SAVED AGAIN. 


247 


walking. Despite the weight of literature which he 
bore on his hack, Buttercup went gaily ahead. The two 
women were splendid marchers, walking with an even, 
elastic tread, heads erect, shoulders well thrown back, 
and looking as if they could go on all day long. It was 
all I could do to keep up with them. 

We reached the creek in about three hours. It 
was very full, the tide being just then at its height. 
Fording was out of the question ; swimming, with our 
kit, rifles, and the rest, equally so ; and I could see no 
suitable timber for raft-making. So I proposed that we 
should strike inland for a few miles, in the hope that 
by the time the tide ebbed we might find a practicable 
crossing. 

Mab concurred; and after a short halt and an al 
fresco breakfast, we turned our backs to the sea, and 
followed, as well as we could, the course of the stream ; 
but as its banks in many places were swampy and 
covered with almost impenetrable brushwood, we had 
to make several detours, and for some time we got on 
very slowly. 

Shortly after we resumed our tramp, a bird, of which 
I did not take particular notice, flew out of a tree. 

'' That is a bad sign,^’ said Mab, who missed nothing. 
A bad sign I Why ? ** 

Don^t you see that it is a magpie ? 

Yes, it is rather like one. I did not know you had 
magpies in this part of the world." 

At any rate, we call it a magpie." 


248 


A QUEER RACE. 


Wliy shouldn't you ? I am sure I have no ob- 
jection. But you have not told me why it is a bad 
sign/' 

** Don’t you know that a single magpie bodes evil ? 

“ ‘ One for sorrow, two for mirth, 

Three for a wedding, four for a birth.* ** 

** I think I have heard something like that before,” 
I said, laughing. I once heard an old woman repeat 
it when I was a small boy." 

“You don’t believe in signs and omens?" 

“ No, I don’t, and I am surprised you do. Yet why 
should I be ? Superstition dies hard ; and your ideas 

are naturally ’’ Here, feeling that I was rather 

putting my foot in it, I paused for further considem- 
tion. 

“Oh, don’t hesiiate. I know what you mean,’’ 
returned the Queen, in a hurt voice. “We islanders 
are backward and ignorant — our ideas are old-fashioned. 
I admit it. All the same, you must acknowledge that 
my forebodings have so far proved only too true, and if 
the flight of that magpie does not prove a presage of 
sorrow I shall be agreeably sur{)rised.’’ 

“ I have not the least doubt it will. Sorrow is sure 
to come sooner or later — rather sooner than later; 
mirth, too, whether magpies fly singly or in pairs ; so 
are weddings and births — at the rale of a few thousands 
a day.’’ 

“Don’t talk nonsense, Mr. Erie," returned Mab, 


SAVED AGAIN. 


ud 


impatiently (she was not used to being chaffed)'. The 
sign is only for those of whom it is .seen. The appear- 
ance of that magpie boded sorrow for some of us. Of 
that I am sure.^^ 

Which of us is going to be married, then ? For 
see, there are three of them flying over that tree ! 

This time the Queen did not answer ; but a minute 
later she uttered an exclamation. 

Stop ! Look there ! she cried. 

Her sharp eyes had detected a deer browsing in f* 
glade a few hundred yards ahead. I instinctively raised 
my rifle to my shoulder, and as I pulled the trigger 
the creature bounded away. 

Confound it ! I exclaimed. I forgot that I 
was not loaded. What a splendid shot I should have 
had I However, I will be ready for the next.^" And 
with that I opened the breech and inserted a cartridge. 

Let me have one, too,^^ said Mab (she was a keen 
sportswoman). ** I wonder whether I could hit a 
deer?^^ 

I have no doubt you could. . . . There, your piece 
is charged. You shall have the first shot, if we do 
see another; and if you miss I will try. I thought 
you said Swamp Island was inhabited only by snakes 
and alligators."'^ 

'' There may be also a few deer. Or perhaps the 
one we saw just now has crossed over from Fair Island."' 

In that case there is likely to be a track and a ford 
not far off. We must keep our eyes open."" 


260 


A QUEER RACE. 


As we went through the glade, looking carefully for 
the slot of the deer. Buttercup, who was just then 
leading the way, came to a sudden stop, like a pointer 
setting game. 

** Do you see something ? I asked. 

Rather ! Look there ! 

The embers of a fire, hardly cold, and feathers and 
bones 1 Who has been cooking here, I wonder — snakes 
or alligators ? Or perhaps it is the deer we saw a little 
while since.^^ 

" It is very strange," said Mab. I am sure 
nobody is living here, or I should have heard. Hunters 
from Fair Island ? But why hunters should come here 
when game is so much more abundant over there, I 
don't quite see.” 

''There is no accounting for taste," I put in. 

" They must be hunters, and if w'e can find them, their 
coming will be all the better for us. They can show us 
the way " 

" There they are ! But " 

" Back, back ! behind the trees ! — for your lives, 
behind the trees ! " I cried, as an arrow whistled past 
my head, and another grazed the Queen's shoulder. 

Poor Buttercup was less fortunate. As half a dozen 
nearly naked savages came towards us at a run, spears 
in hand, he fell to the ground without a groan, struck 
through the heart. 

" I will take the man to my right ; you take the ^ 
next," I said to the Queen, " Now ! " ^ 


SAVED AGAIN. 


251 


The next moment two of the black fellows jumped 
into the air with a yell, and then fell forward on their 
faces, dead. 

Charge again, quickly I Here is another cart- 
ridge.'^ But before we were ready for a second volley, 
the remaining four, after staring at each other for an 
instant in evident consternation, disappeared into the 
forest. 

Mab threw down her rifle, kneeled beside Buttercup, 
and raised his head. 

** My poor, poor boy I They have killed him I they 
have killed him!" she cried, as the tears streamed 
down her cheeks. '' Oh, how shall I tell his mother ? 
Say, Mr. Erie! say, Marian! how shall I tell his mother? 
She had only him." 

And then closing Buttercup's eyes and stroking his 
stiffening fingers, she wept silently. 

I waited several minutes, and then suggested as 
gently as I could that, as the poor lad was past our help, 
it behoved us to think of our own safety, and the sooner 
we got away the better. 

You are right," she said, rising to her feet. God 
has taken him ; his work is done, ours is not ; let us be 
up and doing. Pity, though, we cannot bury him ! 
But it would be risking too much. What shall we do ? " 

** Make straight for the creek, and get through it 
somehow. There may be hundreds of these villains 
about, for anything we know. If we could only find 
that deer-track 


252 


A QUEER RACE. 


Here it is ! said Marian, who had been questing 
about ; her eyes were, if possible, sharper than MaVs. 

'' So it is ; and plainly marked ! Let us be off at 
once ; we have not a moment to lose/^ 

The track took us past the bodies of the two men 
we had killed. They were very tall, with long, muscular 
arms and broad, square shoulders. Their skins were 
almost black-red, their features of a decidedly negro 
type, but their faces and breasts were so extensively 
painted and tattooed that it was impossible to dis- 
tinguish at a glance — and we had not time for more — 
whether they were piebald or the reverse. 

What are they ? " I asked Mab, as we ran on. 

Fugitive slaves ? ” 

If they were, there would be no need for us to 
run. No ; they are Cariberoes.’^ 

Like those who invaded the island in Denzil Fane^s 
time ? 

'' Yes. I never saw any. But 1 have not a doubt 
of it. And I fear they are invading the island a 
second time.^^ 

In that case — and I am afraid you are right — 
these are the first comers — the advance guard. 

Yes, and they will be followed by thousands more. 
They have evidently chosen Swamp Island as their base 
of operations. The stroke we have so long feared has 
fallen. The safety, nay, the very existence of the 
commonwealth depends on us. If we reach Fairhaven 
quickly, we shall have such time for preparation as will 


I 


SAVED AGAIN. 


26 b 


enable us, please (rod, to make head against the danger. 
The Cari heroes are sure to be joined by most of the 
Calibans, and if our people are taken by surprise and 
overcome, not a single Christian will be left alive ; and 
we have only ourselves to depend upon.^^ 

'^But the aborigines — the Caribs — you can surely 
count upon them ? 

On their goodwill, yes ; but not on their help in 
the field. They }\ave lost their old fighting habits, and 
have not been trained as our young men have been 
trained. It was considered policy not to train them — a 
mistaken policy, in my opinion ; but such is the fact, 
and this is no time to cherish illusions.'^ 

^'Do you know the country on the other side of the 
creek 

Pretty well. But you must be very familiar vdth 
a country to find your way through a thickly wooded 
district, where roads are scarce and people few. There 
is a hamlet called Weston^s which cannot be very far 
off. We must make for that, and, with the help of 
your pocket-compass, I daresay we shall be able to get 
there. 

In the meanwhile we were pushing on through bush 
and brake, wading swamps, clambering over fallen trees, 
our clothes in tatters, our hands and faces scratched 
with brambles and covered with blood — stopping at 
nothing in our race for life, yet all the while listening 
intently, and not forgetting to keep a look-out for 
lurking enemies. 


264 


A QinEER EACB. 


« 

At length our perseverance receives its reward 
'rhe channel is in sight. We have struck it (following 
in the track of the deer) at a point where it is wide and 
presumably shallow. The banks on the hither side are 
low, marshy, and covered with reeds ; on the side over 
against us, high and steep, and, for a space of several 
hundred yards, destitute of cover. 

On coming to the water^s edge we pause for a brief 
colloquy. The tide, though not at its lowest, is ebbing 
fast. Shall we wait until it ebbs further ? My advice 
is, decidedly not. The Cariberoes may be on our trail — 
almost certainly are on our trail; the low reeds afford 
hardly any protection, and even while we stand here 
whispering we may be shot down by unseen foemen. 

There is no fear of our drowning,” says Mab; 
''we can all swim.” 

" But if we swim we shall wet our ammunition, and 
that might be fatal. We are all tall, too, and I hope 
we shall be able to do it wading. Come ! There is no 
time to lose. I shall fasten the cartridges round my 
neck, and hold my rifle and revolver over my head. 
You two go first, and as you cannot well wade one way 
and look another I will stay here and protect your 
passage.” 

" And when we are on the other side we will do the 
same service for you. Come, Marian ! ” 

And with . that they plunged boldly into the stream, 
the Queen (who had fastened a few cartridges in her 
hair) holding her rifle above her head. The tide ran 


SAVED AGAIN. 


Ji55 

very strong^, and I watched their movements with 
considerable anxiety; but these women were strong-, 
active, and courageous, and though more than once up 
to the neck, they showed no sign of wavering, and in 
a few minutes had gained the opposite bank. 

Mab raised her rifle to show that she had kept her 
powder dry, and, standing on guard, motioned me to 
join them. 

''So far, so good,^' I said, when I was safely across. 
"Now mount that bank as quickly as you can, and 
wait for me among the trees.^^ 

" And what will you do V* 

" Stay here until you are safe up there. You will 
be very much exposed while you are climbing that bluff 
and walking up the slope.^' 

" And you V* 

" Don’t trouble about me. I shall be all right. I 
can mount the bluff in a few minutes, and I shall make 
sure the coast is clear before I start. I remain behind 
only by excess of precaution — to make assurance doubly 
sure, as it were. Your life is very valuable, remember. 
We must not throw away a single chance. But this is 
no time for discussion. Don't stand upon the order of 
your going, but go." 

Mab acquiesced, though, as it seemed to me, rather 
reluctantly. 

" When you hear the cry of the bell-bird," she said, 
as they set off, "you will know that we have reached 
the trees." 


256 


A QUrOEU RACE. 


When the two girls had gained the top of the clift* 
(from which to the edge of the forest was a stiffish 
ascent of nearly a mile) and were lost to view, T con- 
sidered my own position. 

It was very exposed. Between the foot of the bluff 
and the edge of the water was a space of some ten or a 
dozen yards, and as I stood there, waiting for Mab^s 
signal, it struck me that I should make a splendid target 
for the arrows of any Cariberoes who might be lurking 
about on the other side ; so I thought it might be just 
as well to take advantage of the only bit of cover there 
was about — a stunted bush. But finding that it would 
not conceal me sitting, much less standing, I laid myself 
down, almost full length, at right angles to the creek, 
and, after -placing my weapons and ammunition handy, 
leaned on my elbows and peered lazily through the bush, 
wondering the while how soon I should hear the cry of 
the bell-bird. 

After this I think I must have dozed a few seconds, 
for I opened my eyes with a start, and by way of 
keeping myself awake for the rest of my vigil (the run 
and the wade having made me decide ily sleepy) rubbed 
them vigorously and stared my hardest. 

The reeds were moving. 

" A deer,^^ I thought (they were about the height of 
a deer), ‘^or perhaps some other wild animal. I am 
sure there is a good deal more game on Swamp Island 
than !Mab has any idea of. There it is again ! Some- 
thing black. The snout of an alligator, perhaps. 


SAVED AGAIN. 


257 


No. . . The woolly head of a Cariberoe, by Jupiter I 
Nothing* else.^^ » 

The next moment the woolly head was followed by 
a bronzed, tattooed savage face. It gazed furtively 
round, and then the Cariberoe, seemingly satisfied with 
the result of his inspection, rose to his feet and waved 
his hand, whereupon six more Cariberoes rose to their 
feet; and after another look round, the seven put 
their heads together, like jurymen considering their 
verdict. 

At the same moment the note of the bell-bird rang 
out loud and clear. 

I am glad you are safe, Mab,^^ I muttered ; but 
I am afraid I shall not be able to join you until these 
rascals have taken themselves 

That they would take themselves off I made no 
doubt — in time. They had nothing to gain by following 
us further, and were not in sufficient force for a raid. 
This was my theory, at least ; but after a while I began 
to- fear that the Cariberoes did not take quite the same 
view of the matter. Their proceedings, when they had 
done putting their heads together, were ominous in the 
extreme. They went down to the water^s edge, gesticu- 
lating fiercely and talking incessantly. They pointed to 
our footmarks in the mud, then to the bluff and towards 
the forest, as if they had a very strong suspicion that 
we were not very far off. Perhaps they had seen the 
flutter of a gown among the trees. 

Were they going to follow us up, after all? It 


258 


A QUEER RACE. 


looked like it; for after another putting together of 
^ heads, they unstrung their bows and fastened the strings 
round their heads. Then the tallest of the lot, after 
beckoning to the others to follow, stepped into the 
stream, and cautiously feeling his way with his long 
spear, made straight towards the bush behind which I 
was perdu. 

- I am in a pretty tight fix now, and no mistake ! 

I thought. Seven bloodthirsty savages within a 
hundred yards of me, and no getting away ! The mere 
raising of my head would be my death-warrant.^'’ 

I confess it candidly, I was dreadfully frightened; 
but only for a moment. The very extremity of my peril 
seemed to steel my nerves and clear my brain, and al- 
most on the instant I made my plan of campaign. 
Though T had little hope of saving my life, the attempt 
was worth making, and I might, at any rate, stop the 
pursuit and give the two girls a chance of making good 
their escape. 

Again the note of the bell-bird. 

Slowly, and taking infinite pains to avoid stirring 
the bush or exposing my body, I brought my rifle to 
bear, and waited until the Cariberoes were in mid- 
stream, up to the armpits in water. Then, taking 
deliberate aim, I shot the tall fellow who had first 
stepped into the water through the head. Down he 
went, and was swept away with the tide; but the 
othres, after a moment of hesitation, gave a loud yell 
and charged in a body towards the bush. Wading in 


SAVED AGAIN. 


259 


deep water is, however, slow work. I reloaded my rifle, 
fired again, and brought a second man down. 

Surely,^^ I thought, that will stop them ! ** 

But no; they came on if possible more resolutely 
than before ; and one rascal threw his spear, with aim 
so true that had I not managed to ward off the stroke 
with my rifle, I should have been pinned to the ground. 

I gripped my revolver, loosened the knife which I 
carried at my belt, and prepared for a life-and-death 
struggle at close quarters. But the odds were fearfully 
against me — five to one — and I felt that there was 
now nothing for it but to sell my life as dearly as 
possible. 

Hark! The crack of a rifle up there beyond the 
bluff, the whistle of a bullet through the air, and a 
third Cariberoe drops stone dead, and is swept away 
by the tide. 

God bless you. Queen Mab I You have saved my 

life.'" 

The four surviving savages, now effectually cowed, 
pull up short, and, turning round, make back as fast as 
they can. I had already reloaded my rifle, and could 
easily have picked one of them off, but for pity's sake I 
forebore ; the danger was past, and I felt that there had 
been slaughter enough. Mab, however, gave them a 
parting shot, which, though it hit one of the fellows, 
did not seem to hurt him much ; for, after a howl and 
a stumble, he continued his flight, and kept up with the 
others. 

E % 


£60 


A QUEER RAC5E. 


As they disappeared among the reeds I sprang up 
the bluff, where, as I expected, I met the Queen. 

Thank Heaven you are safe ! she ' exclaimed, 
fervently. I feared those wretches had killed you. I 
am again your debtor for my life.^^ 

It is the other way about : you have saved mine/' 
'^Oblige me by not talking nonsense, Mr. Erie," 
she answered, in her imperious way. " Had you not 
stayed down there at the risk of your life, what would 
have become of Marian and me ? " 

Had you not left the shelter of the forest, at the 
risk of your life, and shot that Cariberoe in the very 
nick of time, what would have become of me?" 

You would have shot him yourself and escaped all 
the same." 

I am sure I shouldn't. They would have been on 
me before I could reload my rifle, and though I might 
have killed two or three more of them, they would 
certainly have killed me. Shall we settle the dispute 
by saying that each of us saved the other's life ? Then 
we shall be quits." 

Say what you like j we shall not be quits — 

smiling. I am still your debtor, and some time 

But never mind that now. Why did those Cariberoes 
attempt to follow us across the creek ? " 

The very question I have been asking myself." 
Don't you think they wanted, at all hazards, to 
prevent us from giving the alarm ? " 

** Either that, or there are many more of them down 


SAVED AGAIN. 


261 


there than we have any idea of, and they are going to 
invade Fair Island at once.^^ 

“ It is pf>ssible/^ said Mab, anxiously. Let us go 
on. Oh, that we had fleet horses, or, still better, some 
of those wonderful speaking wires you have told me 
about 1 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


FRIENDS IN NEED. 

It was very easy to say, Let us go on.^^ But as Mab 
had only the vaguest idea of the way to Weston's, and 
I had none whatever, the carrying out of the proposal 
was attended with some little difficulty. She thought 
that if we went east by north we should not be far out ; 
and east by north we went — as nearly as we could ; for 
going straight in that part of the island was quite out 
of the question. We were forced to make long detours, 
and in order to advance one mile in a straight line we 
had generally to walk about three miles. And yet we 
seemed to get no further ; we were always toiling over 
the same sort of ground, always surrounded by the same 
bushes and trees, and our view was always limited to a 
circle of a few yards. 

At length, late ia the afternoon, when the deepen- 
ing gloom of the forest was reminding us that if we did 
not soon get out of it we should have to stay there all 
night, we came to a knoll bare of underwood, where the 
trees were tall and far apart. 

Suppose you climb one of them ? " said Mab. 

It was a happy thought, and I proceeded to act on it 
forthwith, selecting for the purpose the tree that seemed 
the easiest to mount, for I was fearfully tired. 


|■Rl^]NDS IN NEED. 


The first look when I got to the top was bitterly 
disappointing. The prospect was magnificent^ hut no- 
where a sign of life_, and I was just about to descend 
with my had news, when I caught sight of a faint blue 
line rising slowly out of a mass of greenery, about two 
miles to the eastward. 

Smoke ! I shouted, as I slithered rapidly down the 
tree. " I have seen smoke,^^ I repeated, as I reached 
terra Jirma ; ^^and where that smoke is we shall find 
a fire and a house, and somebody to show us the 
way/^ 

We resumed our journey in high spirits, and after a 
further tramp of half an hour or so we struck a beaten 
track which led us to a clearing, a field of maize, an 
orchard, and finally to a farmhouse. 

This was Weston^s, and we found Weston at home, 
and, despite our disreputable appearance, received a warm 
welcome. But Mab looked so very unlike a Queen, that 
when I told him who she was he evidently thought we 
were poking fun at him. But when he heard our story 
his doubts disappeared. The possibility of an incursion 
of Cariberoes alarmed him greatly ; he offered to accom- 
pany us part of the way to Faiihaven, and to do every- 
thing in his power to facilitate our journey thither. We 
were too much fatigued to go on without rest, but we 
gathered that if we took about six hours^ sleep, started 
at midnight, and travelled by light of moon, we might 
possibly reach our destination by the following evening 
— possibly because much depended on the wind. 


264 


A QUEER RACE. 


Mab asked what the wind had to do with it, where- 
upon Weston explained that we could not foot it all 
the way to Fairhaven much under two days and a half ; 
but at DottreFs, distant about six hours, was a stream 
known as the Roothing* (doubtless so named by some 
Essex man), by which, as it ran very swiftly, we could 
reach the coast in six hours more, whence, with good 
luck and a fair wind, we might make Fairhaven Creek 
before nightfall. 

As for boats, Dottrel would see to that ; and if the 
Queen desired, he would, of course, be delighted to act 
as our pilot. 

After asking my opinion, and thanking Weston 
for his advice, Mab decided to take it, and trust to Pro- 
vidence for a fair wind. 

In the , meanwhile Weston’s wife had prepared us a 
substantial meal, of which we stood in sore need. She, 
moreover, placed her wardrobe at the disposal of Mab 
and her maid ; and being as ragged as any beggar, I 
gladly accepted the offer of a suit of Weston'’s home- 
spun. 

It was the first time I had been in a Fair Island 
farmhouse. The building was of wood, one-storeyed, 
and very roughly put together, and the internal arrange- 
ments were primitive in the extreme. On the other 
hand, if there was little refinement, there was great 
plenty. The Westons had fields and orchards, slaves 
and goats (which supplied them with milk), and food 
and fruit in abundance ; but none of the family (and 


fllTENT)S IJT NEED. 


m 

tkere were seven children) could either read or write, 
and there was not a book in the house. 

Weston complained much of the wear and tear of 
slaves arising from their use as beasts of burden. It 
was this which made them so savage and discontented. 
If they had horses or oxen, he thought slave labour 
might be dispensed with, and that would greatly simplify 
matters so far as the Cariberoes were concerned. 

This was obviously meant as a hint to the Queen. 

I know,’’^ she said, thoughtfully ; but horses are 
not the only things we lack, and when the present danger 
is past we will have several changes for the better, as 
you will see, Mr. Weston.^^ 

The place-names in Fair Island were rather peculiar. 
A farm or plantation, even though it might afterwards 
expand into a village, was almost always called after the 
first settler. Thus, Weston^s would remain Weston^s, 
whoever might subsequently become its owner. Occu- 
pations and professions were mostly hereditary, not by 
law, but by the force of custom. The parsons were all 
descendants of the Hecaie\^ chaplain, and bore his name; 
the doctors were Sergeants; the schoolmasters. Switchers; 
the carpenters. Browns ; the blacksmiths, Coleses ; and 
so forth. Lawyers there were none ; but that, as Mah 
afterwards told me, she looked upon as a blessing to he 
thankful for, not as a want to he deplored. Neither 
were there any prisons, breaches of the law (except 
treason, the sole capital offence) being punished solely 
by ""sequestration"' (a rigorous form of boycotting). 


266 


A QUEER RACE. 


A few weeks of this regimen was generally found quite 
sufficient to bring the most hardened sinners to their 
senses, and wrongdoers who expressed contrition and 
seemed really repentant were always pardoned. 

It was hard work, rising at midnight. I felt as if 
I had only just fallen asleep ; but our business did not 
brook delay, and at a quarter-past twelve we set out on 
our six hours’ tramp, accompanied by Weston, who took 
us to Dottreks, and Dottrel placed his best boat at our 
disposal, and agreed to pilot us to Fairhaven. 

Before we parted from Weston, Mab asked him to 
keep a sharp look-out for the Cariberoqe, and if they 
appeared in force, to send her word immediately. 

^‘If they appear,^' he said, grimly, shall dis- 
appear. I don^t want to have my throat cut. I will 
come myself, and bring the women and children with 
me. 

The swift-flowing river carried us rapidly to the sea ; 
the wind was fair; when the sun sank behind the 
mountain we were off Fairhaven Creek, and by the time 
we reached the landing-place at the foot of the hill it 
was quite dark* 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


TREASON. 

Mab, who for the last hour or two had been thought- 
ful and taciturn, told us in a whisper to follow her 
silently, and if we were accosted by anybody not to 
answer. She did not want to be recognised. At the 
outskirts of the town she turned off into a by-path, and 
after walking about ten minutes, stopped at the door of 
a solitary cottage. 

Have you that letter ? she asked me. 

Yes ; here it is — giving it to her. 

"Wait here until I return;” and with that she 
opened the door and went in. 

" Whose house is it ? ” I asked Marian. 

" SybiPs.” 

" Very old, isnH she ? ** 

" More than a hundred ; she is the only person in 
the island who remembers Denzil Fane. She is very 
wise, and they say ” hesitating. 

" Yes; what do they say ? ” 

" That she can read your thoughts by looking into 
your eyes, and tell your fortune by examining your 
hand.” 

" I suppose people are afraid of her ? ” 


^68 


A qtJEEll UACifl 


‘^Awfully. They say she can kill with a glance, or, 
at least, work anybody who offends her grievous harm. 
But the Queen fears her not, and Sybil likes her. 
Nobody else would dare go into Sybil'^s house unbidden. 
I would not for all the world 

We went on talking, or, rather, I let the girl go on 
chattering until the door opened a second time, and 
Mab, standing at the threshold, beckoned me to enter. 

I obeyed, and, after passing through a sort of vesti- 
bule, found myself in a little low-ceiled room, dimly 
lighted by a swinging lamp. Under the lamp sat 
a tall old woman, with the most peculiar countenance 
I ever saw — and since I left Liverpool I had seen some 
very queer ones. A mass of snow-white hair covered 
her shoulders and fell down to her waist. Her powerful 
face was like a corrugated bronze mask; but her ears, 
her neck, and her eyelids were as white as her hair, and 
her little eyes glowed in their deep, sunken sockets like 
live coals. 

Though rather startled, I did not feel much alarmed, 
and met the gaze of those burning eyes without 
flinching. 

Let me see your hand,^^ she said, after staring at 
me a full minute. 

I showed her my hand, which she examined with 
great care, botii back and front. 

" He is the man ! — to Mab. 

Then turning to me : 

You are an English »nau. The last Englishman 


TllEAJSON. 


2G9 


I saw was Deuzil Fane. He founded this Commoii- 
wealth. You are its destined saviour. You have done 
much already, yet your task has only just begun. But 
fortune and hap])iness await you. And now go, for 
there is danger in delay. Take with you the blessing 
of an old woman, and ask God for His. The peril is 
great, and so is the prize, and the omens are good.'' 

Come 1 " said Mab, giving me her hand ; and we 
went out into the darkness. 

Whither?" Tasked. 

You will see. Quick ! If we are late, harm may 
befall." 

She led the way, almost at a run, back into the main 
road and up the hill, never pausing until we were in the 
middle of the great square. The Government House 
was lighted ujd, and before the entrance, which seemed 
to be guarded by armed men, was gathered the largest 
crowd I had yet seen in the island. But nobody recog- 
nised us — hardly noticed us, in fact; and giving the 
crowd a wide berth, we went round to the rear of the 
building, which we found silent and deserted. It 
was, however, easy for ATab, who knew all the ins 
and outs, to gain admittance, and we entered unper- 
ceived, by a wicket opening into a corridor which gave 
access to the great hall, where we could see all that 
went on without ourselves being seen. 

Torches of resinous wood, stuck in brackets, throw a 
lurid light on a strange and picturesque scene. Fifty or 
sixty armed men, broken up into twos and threes, some 


270 


A QUEER RACE. 


walking rapidly to and fro, others violently gesticulating, 
are engaged in a discussion which evidently excites them 
to the utmost, but as all talk together it is not easy to 
distinguish what they say. Suddenly a side door opens, 
and Amy as Fane flings into the hall. He is followed by 
Oliver, Field, and other members of the Council of 
Nine. 

The clamour ceases, and is succeeded by a silence so 
intense, that we might have heard the dropping of the 
traditional pin. 

I protest against this decision of the Council, '' 
exclaims Amyas. They have actually dared to reject 
me, and nominate Oliver Fane as Oueen Mab’s successor. 
It is infamous. I am her legitimate successor. Her 
death makes me ip8o facto protector of the Common- 
wealth, and I will maintain my rights against all 
comers.^^ 

This declaration is followed by shouts of applause 
from several of his friends, who gather round him, as 
if for the purpose of giving him their moral support, 
and, if the need should arise, probably something more. 

You forget, Amyas,^^ says Field, quietly, that 
according to Denzil Fane's will and our constitution, the 
Council have a right of selection, and this right they 
have, by a unanimous decision, exercised in favour of 
your cousin Oliver.'' 

It is all a base intrigue. The right is obsolete, 
and I refuse to recognise it." 

You set the Council at defiance, then ? " 


TREASON. 


271 


'' I treat their decision with contempt, if that is what 
you mean ; and I shall instantly declare myself Pro- 
tector, and appeal to the people for their support.^^ 

That is flat rebellion, and, as president of the 
Council, I order you under arrest/^ 

''You do, do you? And who will execute your 
decree, I should like to know?^' demands Amyas, 
insolently. 

" I will,^^ says Oliver, stepping forward with dignity. 
" You had better submit quietly, Amyas.^' 

" Oh, yes ; very quietly — drawing his sword, an 
example which is followed by his partisans, among 
whom I perceived Bolsover, armed with cutlass and 
revolver. " Touch me at your peril I 

Oliver, Field, and the others also draw their 
swords. 

" You are mad, Amyas. I ask you for the last time 
to suhmit,^^ says Oliver, " if only for the sake of your 
deluded friends. You are the weaker party, and are 
sure to be worsted.^' 

" Take that for your answer ! shouts Amyas, 
making a desperate lunge at his cousin. " Now, gentle- 
men, at them I We will soon see which is the weaker 
party 

" Stop!'^ 

And Queen Mab, who has glided unseen from her 
hiding-place, stands between the combatants, and with 
imperious gesture bids them lower their weapons. The 
two leaders step back aghast, and terror is depicted on 


A qiJEER RACE. 


%72 

every face, for all believe they see before them a visitant 
from the world of spirits. 

So you thought me dead, Amyas ! You might, 
at least, have made some effort to ascertain whether I 
was perchance not still alive, before trying to step into 
my shoes.” 

** The Dia7ia went down in the storm — and it did 

not seem possible stammers Amyas, in a voice so 

broken as to be hardly audible. 

How know you she went down ? And, even though 
you had seen me perish, would that have been enough 
to justify you in setting the Council at defiance and pro- 
voking a civil war? Amyas Fane, you are a murderer, 
a traitor, and a dastard.'^ 

Madam I ** 

I repeat it : a murderer, a traitor, and a dastard. 
You cut the Diana from her moorings in the hope that 
she would be carried out to sea, and that we who were 
on board would thereby perish. Don^t deny it j I know 
you did. It was a murderous, a traitorous, and a das- 
tardly deed. And you wrote this letter to Mr. Erie, 
virtually threatening him with death if he obeyed not 
your behest to leave the island within ten days, because, 
I suppose, you thought I had in him a brave and de- 
voted friend, who, in case of need, would defend my 
person and defeat your plots ! And so he has. Twice, 
nay, three times, has he saved my life. But for him I 
should not be here to-night.'’^ 

To all this Amyas answers never a word. All his 


TREASON. 


273 


boldness has vanished ; his knees bend under him, and 
he bows his head in shame and confusion. 

''You have nothing- to urge in your defence. You 
admit the truth of these charges. It is better so. 
Without adding perjury to your other sins, you could 
not deny them. Gentlemen, I appeal to you all — even 
to those of you who call yourselves his friends— what 
shall be done with this man, who virtually pleads guilty 
to a charge of actual treason and attempted murder? 
Pronounce his doom ! It is not meet for me to be both 
accuser and judge.^^ 

The Queen paused for a reply; but none liked to 
utter the word which was in every mind, and there 
ensued a painful silence that lasted for several minutes. 

At length a white-haired member of the Council, 
who numbered more years than the century, broke the 
spell. 

" This man deserves death/^ he said, slowly and de- 
liberately ; and the sentence was repeated by fifty 
voices. Not even the men who had been ready to fight 
for him had aught to urge in arrest of judgment. 

" Yes,^^ said the Queen, "he deserves death. But 
the prerogative of mercy is mine, and I freely pardon 
him, as I have a right to do, for his offence was against 
me personally. I pardon him, not because he is my 
kinsman, but because I believe that he is not wholly 
bad. He has been led away by pride, envy, and ambi- 
tion ; yet he has good qualities, and if opportunity be 
given him he will make reparation and redeem his 
s 


274 


A QUEER RACE, 


honour. Another reason for sparing him is that we 
have need of him, as of every man who can wield a 
sword and draw a bow. The Cariberoes Rre in Swamp 
Island, and I daresay by this time have crossed the 
creek 

The Cariberoes ! ” — '' Impossible I ** — Who says 
so ? Has anybody seen them ? ** and a hundred 
other exclamations of incredulity, astonishment, and 
doubt followed the Queen's announcement, which caused 
almost as great a sensation as her own reappearance had 
done. 

Is this really true, Mabel ?" asked Field, when the 
clamour had somewhat subsided. I know you think 
so ; but there is such a thing as being misinformed. 
Has anybody actually seen the Cariberoes ? " 

^^Yes; we have seen them, been chased by them, 
and had to run and fight for our lives." 

And then Mab told what had happened, from the 
beginning of our involuntary cruise on the Diana to our 
return to Fairhaven. This done, she continued : — 

So, you see, that which we and our fathers have so 
long feared has at length come to pass. You may be 
quite sure that the braves we encountered are either the 
forerunners of a large force, perhaps two or three thous- 
and strong, or that a large force has already landed on 
Swamp Island. At any rate, it is not safe to act on any 
other assumption. You know, too, that many of the 
Calibans, who are of their own blood, being greatly dis- 
contented (I fear not without reason), will certainly join 


TBEASON. 


276 


them — have probably invited them to come over, for 
several of late have mysteriously disappeared; boats 
have also been missed. Hence the danger is very 
great, and unless it be nipped in the bud the conse- 
quences may be disastrous, nay, ruinous. It will not be 
enough merely to repel the invasion. We must crush 
the invaders if we would not be crushed ourselves. It 
will be a severe struggle, yet if we all pull together 
success is sure. What say you, Amyas : will you take part 
in the struggle, and endeavour, by loyalty and devotion, 
to win back your good name and my confidence ? 

Only give me the chance, and you shall see — I 
swear 

But I cannot allow you to remain captain of my 
Guard — that were unfair to better men ; you must serve 
in the ranks as a common archer.^^ 

Amyas, who seemed deeply moved, bowed his head 
and kissed her hand. 

I am more than conquered,'^ he said. The life 
which I had forfeited and you have spared is yours. 
Queen Mab. Dispose of me as you think best. I ask 
only an opportunity to prove that I am not unworthy 
of your kindness and forgiveness. So help me God, I 
will serve 3mu faithfully to the death.^^ 

It only remains now,^^ the Queen went on, after a 
moment’s consideration — it only remains now to say 
who shall undertake the necessary preparations, organise 
our small army, and command it in the field. To this 
office I appoint our guest, Mr. Sidney Erie. He holds 


276 


A QUEER RACE. 


the Queen of England's commission; he has been- 
trained to arms. I can personally testify that he is 
brave, and as wise in council as he is prompt in action. 
It is a post of great difficulty and danger ; nevertheless, 
although we can offer him little other reward than our 
gratitude, I am sure we may count on his loyalty and 
devotion 


CHAPTER XXVIIL 


BOLSOVER HIMSELF AGAIN.-* 

Astonishment was not the word. For the moment I 
was simply stricken dumb. The idea of my command- 
ing an army of piebald warriors in the field seemed too 
absurd for credence. I could not believe that ]\Iab was 
in earnest, and I was about to tell her so, when she 
drew me aside. 

I know all you are going to say,’' she said. You 

would rather not ; but for my sake " 

I would do a great deal for your sake ; but, really, 
you know, it is quite out of the question. I cannot 
conduct a war and command an army. You must find 

a much better man " 

I cannot find one so good ; not only so, I cannot 
find one — now Amyas is in disgrace — under whom the 
others would be willing to serve, and serve heartily ; 
but all would be proud to serve under a British officer. 
If you refuse, the consequences may be serious— per- 
haps fatal." 

In that case Let it be as you wish, then. I 

can only do my best." 

" It is all I ask." And then, addressing the others, 
she said that, albeit I naturally hesitated somewhat to 
undertake so great a responsibility, I had decided, at 


278 


A QUEER RACE. 


her pressing request^ to accept the command, and that 
if I was loyally supported she felt sure the result would 
he all they could desire. For her own part, she con- 
ferred on me the most ample powers ; . every measure 
which I advised must be adopted, every order I gave 
obeyed. 

This speech was received with applause, and rather 
to my surprise, everybody seemed to be eminently satis- 
fied, whether merely out of complaisance, or because 
they really shared the Queen^s confidence, I could not, 
of course, determine. But, after all, I did possess some 
qualifications for the post. * I had served both in the 
volunteer artillery and infantry, gone through a course 
of musketry instruction at Hythe, been brigaded with 
the regulars, and taken part in several autumn man- 
oeuvres and sham fights. I had, moreover, given some 
attention to strategy and the theory of war, and studied 
the plans of a good many battles, ancient and modern. 
All this was, of course, not enough to make me a 
general, but I had so far the advantage of everybody 
else in the island; and as the enemies we should have 
to encounter were only half-naked savages, I hoped that 
I should be equal to the occasion. 

I began the work of organisation at once and on the 
spot. The first necessity was a staff, and I hardly 
knew one man from another. I decided to appoint the 
best shark-fighters as my aides y and select from amongst 
them the superior officers of my army. I knew them 
to be fearless and resolute, and I thought they would 


BOLSOVEE HIMSELF AGAIN. 


279 


prove apt and intelligent. The result justified my 
expectations. 

The next thing was to ascertain upon how many 
men I could count, and I gave orders for the Archer- 
guard, and every man in the neighbourhood between 
eighteen and thirty-five, sound in wind, limb, and eye- 
sight, to be mustered in the great square on the follow- 
ing afternoon. 

Then I asked whether there were any maps of the 
island. Two or three were produced, which, though 
roughly drawn, were sufficient for my purpose. After 
studying them carefully, I asked Mr. Field (who was 
the leading member of the administration) to send two 
fishing-boats, the fastest he could find, to the further 
end of the island, one by the north, the other by the 
south coast, to watch the movements of the enemy and 
make inquiries, under strict orders to return with all 
speed and report any information which they might be 
able to obtain. 

Swift runners were to be despatched on a similar 
errand to Weston’s, Swamp Island Creek, Wynter^s 
Hill, and elsewhere ; and a series of relays organised, so 
that messages might be forwarded with the least pos- 
sible delay, and, as a matter of fact, they were for- 
warded almost as quickly as they could have been by 
mail-carts or post-horses. 

By the time these dispositions were made it was 
very late, and as nothing more could be done until 
moj ning, we separated for the night. 


•280 


A QUEER RACE. 


As I was leaving the hall with Mr. Field, Bolsover, 
of whom so far I had not taken the least notice, 
put himself in my way, and said he wanted a word 
with me. 

Say on,^^ I answered, coldly ; for old Tom^s recent 
conduct had not been at all to my liking, and I rather 
suspected him of having had a hand in the cutting loose 
of the Diana. 

ax your pardon, Mr. Erle,^^ he said, very 
humbly; ** but if you will let me say so, I have done 
you wrong. I was that disappointed with not getting 
the treasure — I had thought of scarce anything else all 
my life — I was that disappointed as I was almost mad, 
and scarce knew what I was doing. And I blamed 
you. I thought as you was somehow in fault, and as 
you could have got the treasure for us if you’d liked. 
Well, when I was in that humour, Mr. Fane comes to 
me and says as I had a better claim to the treasure than 
anybody else, and that he would see me righted. I 
believed him ; but I can see now as he only wanted to 
make a spoon-handle of me, and may be to do something 
against you and the Queen. But he soon found out as 
though I might be a fool I wasn’t a knave, and he did 
his dirty work himself, or got somebody else to do it. 
When the Diana , as was thought, broke away from her 
moorings and foundered, my eyes was opened, and I 
knew as I had lost my best friend ; but it was not till 
you came back that I had any idea as Mr. Fane was not 
as honest as he made out. And now, Mr. Erie, will 


BOLSOVER HIMSELF AGAIN. 


281 


you forgive me, and let bygones be bygones ? If you 
can make any use of me, I am quite willing to serve 
with you agen these niggers, or redskins, or piebalds, or 
whatever they are. I^m a Naval Reserve man, and 
know my gun drill and small-arm drill as well as 
anybody."’^ 

I took old Tom^s proffered hand, and assured him 
that I should be only too glad to let bygones be 
bygones, that his help would be invaluable, and that I 
should give him an important command. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

WYNTER^S HILL. 

Never in my life did I work so hard as during the 
next few days and nights, for I wrought eighteen and 
twenty hours at a stretch, sleeping as opportunity 
offered. 

When my messengers returned, ten days later, with 
the news that Swamp Island swarmed with Cariberoes, 
that a considerable number had disembarked in the 
neighbourhood of Wynter^s Hill, and more canoes were 
in sight, the state of affairs was this : — 

I had an army of some one thousand five hundred 
men, all of them in the prime of life, none less than five 
feet ten inches in height, as keen-sighted as hawks, as 
active as cats, and, as I believed, as brave as lions, but 
with nearly everything to learn in the way of discipline. 
The Archer-guard consisted of five hundred men. They 
were splendid shots, marched fairly together, and could 
execute a few simple movements. The others were 
tolerable bowmen, but when I took them in hand utterly 
unorganised. I divided the one thousand five hundred 
into three regiments, which I called first, second, and 
third, each officered by a colonel, a major, and five 
captains (all shark-fighters). The subalterns and ser- 
geants were selected, on the recommendation of Oliver 


WYNTER^S HILL. 


^83 


Fane (whom I made the chief of my staff), from the 
first or Archer-guard regiment. 

I also organised a rifle company of fifty men, under 
the command of Tom Bolsover. 

It was impossible, with the time at my disposal, to 
attempt anything like regular drill. We could do no 
more than teach the second and third regiments to 
march in step, form in line, and a few other elementary 
movements. Old Tom, however, drilled his fifty men 
incessantly, and made very fair shots of them. As for 
arms, we had any number of bows, and though arrows 
were in rather short supply, our stock was being rapidly 
replenished. We had swords and cutlasses enough for 
the entire force; the former nearly all of Spanish make, 
and very superior weapons. Our only firearms were two 
cases of rifles (fifty) and three or four others, together 
with half a dozen revolvers, taken out of the Diana; 
the old flint-lock muskets which had belonged to the 
Santa Anna were out of repair, and decidedly less 
effective than our bows and arrows. 

I gave Tom and each of the colonels a revolver 
apiece, and kept one for myself. Tom and I also 
carried each a rifle. 

My plan of campaign was very simple. I might, 
as Mr. Field and some of the seniors proposed, have 
chosen a strong position, and there awaited the Cari- 
beroe attack. .. But as the Cariberoes might have taken 
it into their heads to march elsewhere, and I thought it 
inexpedient to let tl^m take the initiative^ I decided to 


284 


A qUEER RACE. 


attack them as soon as I found them, and wherever I 
found them. To this end, though I should have been 
glad of a little more time for preparation, I resolved to 
take the field at once. Within an hour of receiving 
])ositive assurance that the enemy were at Wynter^s 
Hill, I gave orders to march, and my men being 
splendid walkers and in good fettle, I reckoned that we 
should probably reach that place in about three days. 
We were attei)ded by about five hundred Caribs, who 
carried our supplies of food and reserve ammunition. 
I intended also to employ them as scouts, but as they 
wei-e quite unorganised and poorly armed, I could not 
reckon them as effectives. 

I had not much fear that the Cariberoes would evade 
me. Whether their purpose was conquest or merely 
plunder, their objective point must be Fairhaven, 
whither the direct road ran along the north coast, the' 
best cultivated and most thickly populated part of the 
country; and unless they took a very devious and 
difficult route by the south, this was the only road they 
could follow. I had, moreover, so arranged matters 
that, let them go which way they would, I should have 
speedy information. 

On the other hand, as they might make a move at 
any moment, I took every precaution to avoid being 
surprised. Two of our best runners were sent on in 
advance ; then, at a short interval, followed four more, 
then eight, after whom came the advanced guard, a 
company of the first regiment. Carib scouts were also 


Wynter^s hill. 


‘285 


continually ahead, and our bivouacs (we had no tents) 
were guarded by a triple line of sentries and outposts. 

These precautions were all the more necessary as 
multitudes of slaves were leaving their masters, and no 
doubt conveying information to the enemy. The houses 
of several planters had been plundered and burnt, and 
we met many fugitives (among others, our friend 
Weston and his family) on their way to hairhaven. 

It was evident that the fortunes of Fair Island 
depended on us. If we were beaten, or failed to drive 
the invaders into the sea, the country would be ruined. 

As we were eating our evening meal after our third 
day^s march, two scouts came in with the news that the 
Caribs were still at WynteFs Hill, that they had been 
joined by vast numbers of Calibans, and that appear- 
ances indicated that they were making ready for a move. 
In reply to an inquiry as to their strength, I was 
answered, Thousands.^"’ 

This was rather vague, and not very satisfactory ; 
but as waiting would not make them fewer, I deter- 
mined to attack early in the morning. We had light 
of moon, and by starting at two oT-lock we should b(‘ 
able to reach the neighbourhood of Wynter^s Hill about 
six. It would be far better than getting there five or 
six hours later ; for at that time of the year the noon- 
day heat was almost insupportable. 

Having come to this resolution, I called my officers 
together, told them what I proposed to do, and gave 
such orders as I deemed necessary. They were full of 


A qtJEEU HACK. 


fight and confident of success — rather too confident^ in 
fact. I advised them, whatever they did, not to liold 
the enemy too cheap, but to be as vigilant and wary as 
if we liad to do with a disciplined force commanded by 
a competent geneml. I knew the Cariberoes to 
brave, and as they outnumbered us by probably three or 
four to one, they were likely to prove formidable foes ; 
our arms, moreover, were not so superior to theirs that 
we could afford to throw away a chance ; we had only 
fifty rifles, and if their bows and arrows were inferior to 
ours, they had a great many more of them. 

The men were as eager as the officers, and marched 
so well (doing twenty miles in four hours) that at sun- 
rise the runners reported that Wynter^s Hill was in 
sight. On this I ordered a halt, and while the men 
were breakfasting I went forward with Oliver Fane and 
Bolsover to reconnoitre. 

The Cariberoes were encam})ed about two miles off, 
at the edge of a wood. Between our bivouac and the 
wood the ground was undulating and open, and, as I 
thought, not badly adapted for a battle on a small scale. 
But as the enemy occupied the higher ground they had 
the advantage of position, and had they possessed fire- 
arms might have rendered it almost impregnable. 
Even as it was, if they clung to the wood and declined 
to come on,^^ we should not be able to get at them 
without heavy loss and risk of disaster, for as yet their 
numbers were an unknown quantity. To overcome this 
difficulty I had recourse to a stratagem which, though 


it may seem cruel, was, 1 think, justifiable in the cir- 
cumstances, my object being not merely to save the 
island, but to give the Cariberoes such a lesson as would 
keep them away from it for at least a generation. As 
y(‘t they had not seen us — could not see us until we 
stirred ; for we were behind a clump of trees in a dip of 
the ground. My plan was to send the native camp- 
followers on first, in the hope that the Cariberoes, per- 
ceiving how few they were, and that they belonged to 
the race they least feared, might come down the hill to 
meet them, a proceeding wlrich would afford us the 
opportunity we desired. 

To "complete my description of the ground and 
render clear what followed, I must add that we were 
near the sea, which was thereabouts bordered by tall 
limestone cliffs, rising sheer from the water, and broken 
only by a single gap half-way up Wynter's Hill. 
Broadly speaking, the hill was to our front, the sea to 
our right, and a stretch of open country to our left. 

My stratagem, albeit far from being a failure, did 
not prove the brilliant success which I expected. Some 
of the men, contrary to my orders, lighted fires, so that 
before our Carib allies marched out the Cariberoes were 
already on vive, and, though they came down the 

hill in force, they advanced cautiously and, rather to my 
surprise, silently and ifJ good ord^r. They numbered at least 
five thousand, and it was obvious that they were com- 
manded by a chief who knew something of the art of war. 

The Caribs did not take much harm, after all — then. 


2-88 


A QUKRH RACE. 


After exchanging a few shots \vitli the enemy they 
bolted — according to order. As they ran down the hill 
we advanced into the open, marching in line, Bolsover 
and his rifles in the centre and a little in the rear, as 
until they were committed to an engagement I did not 
want the Cariberoes to find out that we possessed fire- 
arms. I held three hundred of the Archer-guard and 
fifty men from each of the other regiments in reserve. 

The enemy, though, as it seemed, rather surprised 
by this display of force, stood their ground. When we 
were about two hundred yards from them, I gave the 
order to begin shooting, and I was pleased to observe 
that nearly every arrciw found a mark. The Cariberoes 
replied briskly, shooting two arrows for our one; but 
their weapons were so inferior that their missiles did 
comparatively little execution. 

This went on for ten or fifteen minutes, when the 
Cariberoes, drawing nearer, showed a disposition to 
come to close quarters, which was what I particular!}'- 
desired to avoid ; I feared that they might bear us 
down by the sheer weight of their superior numbers. 

'"Now is your time, Tom,"^ I said. "Let them 
have it ! 

The old sailor wanted nothing better. His men 
(who had been lying down, a little in the rear) stood up, 
the archers opened their ranks, «ind, advancing to the 
front, the rifles poured in a volley point-blank, which 
bowled the Cariberoes over like ninepins. The effect 
was tremendous. The enemy, completely taken by 


WYNTER^S HILL. 


289 


surpnse, gave way in all directions; and seeing that 
the crisis of the battle had come, I told Tom to go on 
firing as hard as he could, called up the reserves, and was 
about to order a charge along the line, when Oliver Fane 
laid his hand on my shoulder and literally spun me round. 

Good heavens, Mr. Erie I he exclaimed, look 
there I 

He pointed to our left rear, a direction in which I 
had not turned my eyes since the fight began. 

I see smoke,” I said, ^^and some of the bushes 
seem to have caught fire. What then ? ” 

What then ? Why, donT you see that the*fire is 
spreading and the wind rising, and that in five minutes 
all the herbage between the cliffs and Wynter^s Wood 
will bo in a blaze ? The wood will burn, too ; it is as 
dry as tinder : so shall we, if we stay here.” 

''What shall we do? Ah, I see — the gap in the 
cliff. We must occupy it at once. And it will be who 
gets there first. I believe the Cariberoes are moving 
that way already. Give immediate orders for all the men 
to make for the gap at once^ — as hard as they can go.” 

The men needed no second bidding. Some of them 
had seen the danger even as Oliver pointed it out to 
me, and were already off. 

Fighting was now suspended by mutual consent, or 
rather under a common compulsion ; the Cariberoes and 
ourselves raced madly for the sole avenue of escape from 
swift and awful death — death by fire. The gap, more 
than a mile away, was so narrow at the mouth— being, 


T 


290 


A QUEER RACE. 


indeed, for a short distance practically a tunnel — that it 
could be defended by a handful of men against a host ; 

and if the Carjberoes got there first ! 

I never ran so fast before — or since — and after my 
three days^ march I was in tip-top condition, yet, try as 
I might, I could not keep up with the swifter of my pie- 
bald companions. Oliver would have stayed with me, 
but I bade him for Heaven^s sake hurry on and secure 
the pass. I would take my chance. 

Our foremost fellows are now neck and neck with 
about an equal number of Cariberoes, also splendid 
runners; and I watch every phase of the contest with 
sickening anxiety, for upon its issue depends .not our 
lives alone, but the fate of an entire people. 

Thank God! They are drawing ahead. They will 
win 1 They will win I Breed and training are telling, as 
they always do. Bravo, Oliver I Bravo, Wild! One 

more spurt like that, and 

They have done it — the goal is reached ! A score of 
the brave fellows leap into the gap, and as their swords 
Hash in the sun and they turn to face the foe, I know 
that the race is won, the victory ours. 

But the battle has still to be fought. For the start 
was by no means even ; not a third of our little 
army has gained the pass ; while between us and them 
is a great body of the enemy, trying might and main to 
force the gap, and through whom we must cut our way 
or perish, I wait until the remainder of our fellows — 
among whom are Bolsover and Amy as Fane — come up. 


WYNTER^S HlLIi. 


29 ] 


I rally them^ and then charge right into the thick of the 
enemy^ sword in hand. There is no time for shooting. 
They fight like fiends — as only men made desperate 
by fear can fight, neither giving nor taking quarter. 
It is man against man, sword against spear, and as we 
hack, and hew, and stab, thick smoke rolls over onr 
heads. The fire is close behind us. 

All was now wild confusion, and how I personally 
fared in that desperate struggle for life — at once a race 
and a battle — I can scarcely tell. Yet one horribly 
grotesque incident I shall never forget. It was burnt 
into my brain, and I can see it still. Just as I had 
emptied the last barrel of my revolver a fellow came at 
me with his spear, which I contrived to catch with one 
hand, while I ran him through with the other. Before 
I could withdraw my sword, a second Caliban — a 
hideous giant with a black skin, white eyes, and a red 
nose — turned round and pointed his spear straight at my 
throat. For the moment I was defenceless; I gave 
myself up for lost, and nerved myself to die as a brave 
man should. But at the very same instant a blood-stained 
blade flashed through the muiky air, and striking the 
gianFs skull, clove it through the middle right down to the 
chine, and as the wretch staggered backward, the sundered 
parts fell on either shoulder. It was a hideous sight. 

The man who delivered that trenchant blow was 
Amyas Fane. A few minutes later I had the good 
fortune to save his life as he had saved mine. 

But for Oliver and his companions we should never 
T 2 


292 


A QUEER RACE. 


have got tlirough. They plied the eriimy with arrows, 
then charged ; and the Cariberoes, taken between two 
fires, were forced back, so that after a short yet fierce 
struggle we gained our point — those of us who survived ; 
for many had fallen, and all were wounded. 

The poor Caribs perished to a man. They were the 
last to start, and came up only as the Cariberoes, whose 
numbers increased every moment, were making one final 
and fi’antic attempt to drive us through the gap into the 
sea. We did our best to rescue them ; but owing to the 
nature of the ground we could sally out only a few at a 
time, and so failed utterly. Though the Caribs in 
their extremity fought with frantic desperation, they 
fell like corn before the reaper, and the fight went on 
until the fighters, looking more like demons than men, 
were well-nigh inclosed in a ring of fire. Then, throw- 
ing down their weapons, they broke and fled — some 
making for the wood, others for the clifi. 

They cannot escape, do as they will ! said Oliver 
Fane, half exultingly, half pitifully. ** If they go 
down the cliffs they will break their necks ; and before 
they can get through the wood it will be all in a blaze. 
The Cariberoes will trouble us no more, Mr. Erle.^^ 

If we could only have saved those poor Caribs 

Just then the fire swept up both sides of the gap, 
filling it with smoke and sparks, and overcome with the 
heat and foul air (for we were packed like herrings in 
a barrel), the pain of my wounds, and loss of blood, I 
went off in a dead faint, 


CHAPTER XXX. 

AFTER THE FIGHT. 

It is nearly a month since the battle of Wynter^s Hill, 
and I am lying with my head bandaged and one of my 
arms in a sling, in Queen Mab^s own room. Though 
convalescent, I am still very weak, my liurts having 
been much more serious than in the excitement of the 
combat I had any idea of. The wounded had been 
removed to Fairhaven by sea, and as there was no public 
hospital in the place they were taken to private houses, 
myself and several others to the Queen^s House. 

As I lie, with my eyes half-closed, listening to 
the carolling of birds and drinking in the sweet scent of 
flowers (for the day is young), I go over in my mind all 
that has happened to me since I left England, and I ask 
myself. What next ? I am as resolved as ever to go 
back — it is my duty to go back — I must go back. And 
yet, and yet — though I struggle against the feeling, and 
try to ignore it, I know that in my heart of hearts I do 
not want to go back. Why? I had all along admired 
Mab, and now ... I should be sorry to leave 
her. Lately I had seen her in a new character — that of 
a sick-nurse — and she had shown herself to be as tender 
and compassionate as she had before shown herself to 


^94 


A QtJEEE EACii. 


be brave and bigb-spirited. Not a day passed that sbe 
did not visit every one o£ the wounded, both in ber 
own bouse and elsewhere ; and despite ber foibles and 
superstitions, bow splendidly bad sbe behaved through- 
out ! Sbe interested me immensely, and I admired ber 
— nothing more— of course, nothing more. For bad I 
not renounced love and all its works? And even 
though I had not, the very idea of love would, in the 
circumstances, be impossible and absurd, if only because 
of the difference in our positions. Mab was a Queen, in 
however small a way, I a penniless adventurer ; and ber 
people would certainly never permit such a mesalliance. 
No, hard as it might be, I must go, and the sooner the 
better. 

As I arrive at this stage of my reflections, the sub- 
ject of them enters the room. She is in deep mourning, 
for, like everybody else at Fairhaven, she has to lament 
the loss of kinsmen and friends. Of the fifteen hundred 
who went out to the fight, less than a thousand returned 
to their homes. Among the slain is Amyas. He was 
one of the last to fall, and nobly redeemed the promise 
he had made to his cousin. 

I am glad you are so much better to-day, and that 
the doctor allows you to talk a little,^^ said Mab. She 
was more subdued in manner than I had ever seen hei*, 
and the pallor of her face and the dark lines about her 
eyes showed how much she had suffered and how deeply 
she sym])athised with the sorrows of her people. 

‘‘ Yes, I am very much better, and I think I shall 


AFTEll THE FIGHT. 


295 


soon be all right again ; but the scenes I witnessed at 
Wynter^s Hill will never be effaced from my memory. 
I dream of them every night. It was like pande- 
monium. Have you heard whether any of the Cariberoes 
escaped ?” 

So far as we can ascertain, not one. None have 
been seen, and we have taken possession of all their 
canoes. But it is time we talked about yourself. The 
victory was dearly bought, yet it was worth the price; 
it has saved the Commonwealth, and I don't think the 
Cariberoes will ever invade us again — at any rate, not in 
our time. Well, this victory we owe to you " 

No, no ! If you had only seen how pluckily those 
young fellows fought, how splendidly they captured the 
gap, you would know better. I really did very little." 

I give our young soldiers all the credit they deserve ; 
yet I am sure that but for the way in which you organ- 
ised and led them we should not have won the victory. 
They all say so ; I say so too, and I forbid you to con- 
tradict me. You have behaved splendidly, and I want 
to know what recompense we can offer you." 

Recompense ? " 

Yes ; what shall be done to the man whom the 
Queen delights to honour ? "—smiling. 

Let him go home." 

The smile vanished, and was replaced by an angry 
frown. 

Let him go home 1 You want to leave us, then ? " 

Don't put it in that way, please. I shall be very. 


A QtiERli liACiL*. 


very sorry to leave you ; but I have friends in England, 
and an old mother, who is a widow. I am her only son, 
and if she thinks I am dead, it may bring her grey hair 
with sorrow to the grave. It is my duty to go home — 
if I can.^^ 

And among these friends there is one perhaps 
dearer even than your mother?^’ 

^^Not at all. There is nobody else I care very much 
about, or who cares m\ich about me. I daresay all the 
otliers have pretty nearly forgotten me already. 

How would you go ? 

“ If you would point out the position of the island 
on the map, [ind lend me the Sunflower and a few men, 
I think Bolsover and I could navigate her to some port 
where we should find vessels — possibly a steamer bound 
for England."’^ 

“ And you would never come back ? ** 

“ That depends. I should be very sorry I 

mean I should hope to come back — some time.^^ 

Some time ? 

I mean that I am a poor man, and have my way 
to make in the world, and I might not be able to come 
back so soon as I could like.^^ 

Mab seemed much agitated. She rose from her 
chair, walked excitedly up and down the room, then 
returned and sat near me, at the head of the sofa. 

I have a confession to make and a question to ask,^^ 
she said, in a low, tremulous voice. I know it is not 
usual in England, but here, in Fair Island I 


AM'fiR THE EIGHT. 


29 ? 


tliouglit — I mean that I did not intend — but now that 
you want to go home — ^^and it is right you should — 
I must. Has it never occurred to you — have you not 
seen (impetuously) that — that I love you — love you 
with all my heart, and that I should be glad — oh, so 
glad ! — to be your wife ? Say, now, have you never 
thought of this ? 

This avowal took me so completely by surprise that 
I knew not wliat to say — could hardly think, in fact — 
for in my wildest dreams it had never occurred to me 
that it would ever enter into Mab^s mind to make me a 
formal offer of her hand and heart. 

You do not answer — you are angry with me ! ” 
she exclaimed, in a broken voice. ‘^^You think I am 
unmaidenly. You do not love me. Well, be it so — 
averting her face ; that face which had never seemed to 
me so beautiful. 

No, no, no ! I said, taking her hand and pressing 
it to my lips. Not until this moment did I know 
how dear you are to me ; and if I had known I should 
not have dared to speak. You are a grand woman, a 
true queen, my queen, and I love you as you say you 
love me — with all my heart. 

As I say I love you ! Oh, how little you 
know ! ** 

I drew her towards me and put my arm round her 
neck. 

Do not think that I shall ask you to forego your 
visit to your mother. I will go with you to England I 


m 


A QUEER RACE* 


You will go with me to England I 

Do you think I would let you go alone? Kow 
that we are no longer in fear of a Carib invasion, I can 
easily be spared for a few months. And I want to see 
England. We are very backward. We must have 
more books, and a printing press and machinery, and' 
other things. And when we come back you shall take 
part with me in the government. We will abolish 
slavery — I have been reading Uncle Tomb’s Cabin.'' 

I am delighted, to hear you say so. But what will 
the slave-owners say ? 

If for every slave I give them a horse they will 
Bay nothing ; they will be quite content. And I shall 
buy horses. ■''' 

That will be a very costly operation. You will 
want a great deal of money.'^ 

have a great deal. First of all, there is the 
treasure, which is worth I don't know how much, and 
I have pearls enough for a king's ransom." 

Pearls, Mab ! Where on earth did you get them ? " 

They came out of the sea. There is a very valu- 
able pearl fishery on the south side of the island. But 
it has not been fished for a long time, partly because we 
had as many pearls as we wanted, partly because my 
father feared they might create a craving for riches and 
luxury, and possibly bring other evils in their train. 
Blit if we can exchange them for something useful, and 
they enable us to abolish slavery, the good will more 
than outweigh any probable harm. Don't you think so? " 


AtTER THE FIQHt. 


299 


Certainly/' 

You can exchange fine pearls for money in England, 
I suppose?" 

course you can. To any extent you like." 

^^Then we will take a lot with us; buy, with the 
money they bring, the things we need, and pay for the 
Biana^s cargo. I think I would rather not touch the 
treasure ; for Sybil says that so long as it remains on 
the island the Commonwealth will endure. I don't qidte 
believe all she says ; but she is a wise woman, and 
nobody ever neglects her warnings with impunity." 

The pearls will do quite as well, though it does 
seem a pity to let all that money lie idle. Properly 
invested, it would produce a large income. However, 
you are perhaps right. You have everything you need, 
and enough is as good as a feast. But what will Field 
and the others say to your idea of making a trip to 
England ? It was only the other day that the mere 
suggestion horrified them beyond measure." 

Well, if it came to a contest of wills, I think mine 
would prevail. And you don't know what a change 
recent events have wrought in their ideas. You are the 
most popular man in the island. They think you were 
sent purposely to save the Commonwealth; and the fact 
of your having survived so many dangers is regarded as 
a proof of the Divine favour — for our people, though, as 
you may think, rather superstitious, are essentially 
religious. They have often urged me to marry, and 
our marriage and your undertaking to become one of us 


A QUEER RACii. 


Sod 

would reconcile fcliem to anything. And we can concede 
so far to their prejudices and the injunctions of my 
ancestor • of sacred memory as to bring no strangers 
hack with us and keep secret the whereabouts of the 
island.^^ 

-;r * * * * 

A few weeks later we were quietly married by the 
Queen^s chaplain, a lineal descendant of the chaplain of ^ 
his Britannic Majesty^s ship Hecate, and the next day 
we left Fairhaven on our way to England. Having 
ascertained the exact position of the island, we had no 
difficulty in shaping the Sunflower' s course for a not 
very distant port, where, as I knew, we could obtain a 
passage to London or Southampton. Old Tom went 
with us, but merely as sailing-master ; he liked the 
island so well that he had determined to settle there for 
life. Our crew consisted of half a dozen fishermen, 
whose faces were so bronzed by exposure to sun and 
wind that the peculiarity of their complexions was not 
likely to be remarked, especially as the port whither we 
were bound possessed a mixed and many-coloured popu- 
lation. 

The Sunflower was to take back a cargo of horses ; 
and I arranged with Bolsover to meet us on our return 
from England, the date of which we fixed approximately 
beforehand. 

As I anticipated, we had not long to wait for a 
homeward-bound steamer. Our voyage to the Thames 
was unmarked by any incident of importance. A high- 


^FTER THE FIGHT. 


301 


fitting dress, and a foulard carefully adjusted and con- 
tinually worn, prevented the peculiar colour of Mab^s neck 
from being much noticed. But her tall stature, splendid 
proportions, and powerful face, and, I am bound to add, 
her somewhat imperious manner, could not escape obser- 
vation ; and owing to the acuteness of her senses she 
often overheard remarks, complimentary and the reverse, 
which gave her more annoyance than amusement. For 
this reason, and for others which will suggest themselves 
to the reader, I decided to leave her in London while I 
went to Liverpool to see my mother and inform her of 
what had happened to me. But on my arrival thither 
1 found, to my great grief, that she had died a few 
weeks previously. It was, however, a consolation to 
know that her death was in no way connected with my 
absence ; it arose from an organic complaint of long 
standing, and up to the last moment of her life she 
had cherished the hope of seeing me again. 

After settling her affairs and calling on poor Mrs. 
Peyton, I rejoined my wife, and we left London imme- 
diately. Although the great city interested her much; 
she found life there intolerable, and was beginning to 
suffer seriously in health. The never-ceasing din dis- 
tressed her beyond measure ; she could hear voices 
’through an ordinary wall as distinctly as I could hear 
them through a paper partition ; hear a cough in the 
attic, a ticking watch in the basement. In the hotels 
at which we stayed I had to engage the rooms both 
above and below ours, and on either side of them, in 


302 


A QUEER RACE. 


order that they might be unoccupied. But I could 
neither suppress the noises outside^ nor purify the air 
inside ; and the Queens’s sense of smell being as acute as 
her other senses^ she suffered even more from the evil 
odours of London than its incessant racket. So for the 
short remainder of our stay in England I took a fur- 
nished villa near Penmaenmawr, where the only sounds 
^vdllch Mab was compelled to hear were the murmur of 
the waves^ the soughing of the wind^ and the singing of 
birds, and where the air, though less balmy, was as pure 
as that of Fair Island itself. 

Before leaving London I sold some fifty thousand 
pounds^ worth of pearls, and ^jurchased such things as 
Mab thought her people most required. 

To the managing owners of the Diana I remitted a 
l)ank draft for the declared value of her cargo, with no 
other explanation than that, although the ship herself 
had become a total wreck, I had been so fortunate as to 
dispose of the cargo for an amount that, I was glad to 
think, would recoup the underwriters the greater part of 
the claims for which they were liable. 

To one friend only — an old schoolfellow whom I 
accidentally met in London — did I introduce my wife 
and tell my story. To this gentleman, moreover, my 
book, if I may call it mine, will owe its existence. 
Himself a pressman and a writer of stories, he was 
good enough to say that my personal narrative, ^^put 
into proper shape,^" might make a readable book; and he 
offered, if I would give him the necessary particulars, 


AFTER THE FIGHT. 


308 


to act as its literary sponsor_, and see the work through 
the press. Mab and after some hesitation^ agreed to 
this proposal^ making it, however, an imperative con- 
dition that the precise whereabouts of the island should 
on no account be disclosed — for the present. 

The first and greater part of my narrative was then 
taken down in shorthand ; the remainder I have written 
on the voyage out ; and as I add these lines, Bolsover 
is waiting with the Sunflower to convey us and a second 
consignment of horses to Fair Island. 

In the not distant future I hope that Mab and I may 
have so far overcome her people^s prejudice against 
strangers,, and their love of isolation, that we shall be 
permitted to say where we are, and in some future 
edition of A Queer Race invite those of my readers 
who may feel so disposed to pay us a visit in our island 
home.- 


THE END. 


# 








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It 1 h undoubtedly 
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Tte are 




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